Fading
by Vancouverite
Summary: Ryan is sick. It's not anything he can challenge to a fist fight. Seth can't bore it to death with mindless chatter. It's nothing Sandy can sue and take to court. For once, everyone is helpless. Chapter twenty two FINALLY up!
1. Just Great

A/N: Okay, this is my first OC fic. I guess you might want to call it AU because it takes place during what I like to call a "happier time": mid season one, Ryan and Marissa are together, so are Seth and Summer. The whole Oliver incident never happened. Theresa doesn't exist yet. One catch: it's summer time, people. Gotta love it. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own no rights to the OC or any of the characters. This is my little story so please don't sue me. Thanks a bunch.

**FADING**

**Sunday**

The sunset glow reflecting off the surface of the infinity pool danced hypnotically in shades of blue, yellow, and orange on the ceiling of the pool house. Ryan sighed as he allowed his thoughts to drift along with the moving colors, his eyes falling shut tiredly as he basked in the warmth that seemed to surround him on this particularly soothing July night.

Something moved beside him and Ryan felt a gentle weight settle on his chest. "You're not really falling asleep on me again, are you?" Asked the slightly teasing, slightly annoyed voice. Ryan pried his eyes open to find Marissa's large, beautiful blue eyes peering at him curiously, her nose millimeters away from his face. "That's like, the fifth time this week." She added, running her fingers through his blonde hair.

Ryan cleared his throat. Right. Marissa was over. It was warm because she was lying beside him. And it was only six o'clock. No time to be falling asleep.

"Um, no." He mumbled quickly, sitting up a little higher on the pillows beneath his head, blinking his eyes furiously to clear away the cobwebs. "Sorry. I'm just kind of tired." Ryan told her with mild embarrassment.

Marissa sat up and moved beside him, smiling at his profile. "Yeah, I can tell. You've been like this for the past couple of weeks." She kissed his cheek, her warm breath fanning across his face. "School is out now, Ryan. Plenty of time for relaxation."

Pulling her closer to kiss her lips, Ryan melted into her embrace. Yes, it was true, he told himself. School had ended a mere two days ago and here he was falling asleep with his beautiful girlfriend lying on his bed with him. And she wasn't exaggerating, either. With the nearing of summer, Ryan's stress level had been sky high with exams and papers due. For weeks he'd been exhausted, falling asleep early at night and barely able to pull himself out of bed in the morning, not to mention the couple of times he had nodded off in class, much to his teacher's dismay. Ryan couldn't wait to unwind, and figured that any day now he'd be back to his regular self. Plus he didn't think he could stand the annoying headache much longer that had been lingering on and off for what seemed like years.

There was a knock at the door, and Kirsten popped her head inside. "Hey Ryan. Hi Marissa. See, this is me, knocking." She smiled at them a bit nervously, and Ryan had to struggle not to laugh at her discomfort. "Um, I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready. Marissa, would you like to join us?" Kirsten asked warmly.

"Oh, no thanks, Mrs. Cohen." Marissa replied politely, extracting herself from Ryan's arms and sitting on the end of the bed pulling on her shoes. "Actually I promised my dad I'd eat with him tonight."

Ryan reached for her hand and pulled her down to give him a goodbye kiss. "I'll call you later." He said softly before releasing her and watching her head out the door, giving Kirsten a goodbye one the way.

When she was gone, Kirsten held the door open wider and gestured for him to follow her. "We got your favorite, Ryan. I hope you're hungry."

Ryan didn't have the heart to tell her that he hadn't been feeling well all day. He had spent the morning playing video games with Seth, and the afternoon in the pool and at the beach with Marissa. His head had ached and his back was sore, not to mention that his eyes kept wanting to slide shut. He knew they were all the telltale signs of the flu, and prayed that he wasn't getting sick just as summer was beginning.

As he got up from the bed the blood rushed to his head and began to pound harder, making the world spin slightly before his eyes. He tried to hide his discomfort and smother the groan of pain that slowly built, but must have failed because when he opened his eyes Kirsten was standing beside him, her eyes clouded with worry.

"Ryan, are you okay?" She asked gently, a hand on his shoulder. "Do you feel sick? You sure have been sleeping a lot lately, maybe you have the flu." Before he could stop her, she had her hand on his forehead.

Ryan tried to wave away her concern. "It's nothing, Kirsten. I just have a headache." He tried to reassure her.

"You feel a little warm." She noted, removing her hand and eyeing him uncertainly. "Seth told me you've been feeling a little under the weather lately. Maybe I should take you to the doctor tomorrow, just in case." Kirsten suggested.

Shaking his head, Ryan made a mental note to murder his foster brother. He wasn't used to this whole 'mothering thing', and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. "It's nothing, really. I've just been under a lot of pressure from school. But now that's all over, I just need some rest and I'll be fine." Ryan insisted, trying to lure her to the door.

Though she was still frowning, Kirsten nodded. "Okay. You're probably right. And I'm sure you just need some food in your stomach to make that headache go away. But I've got my eye on you." She pointed a teasing finger at his chest as they began to walk to the house. "Didn't you have a snack after lunch?"

Ryan shook his head and kept his mouth shut. He didn't think it would be a very good idea to tell her that he hadn't had any lunch, period.

When they walked into the kitchen immediately there was a flurry of activity: Sandy was scooping steaming hot food out of containers and onto plates. Seth was talking furiously, as usual, about nothing in particular, his current topic choices jumped from Summer's taste in clothes to the latest Batman comic book he had just bought as he set the table. Kirsten began busying herself by pouring wine and juice. With a small sigh and a barely visible smile, Ryan stood back for just a moment and watched. He never thought that he, an Atwood, would be a part of a family like this. Maybe his luck had changed after all these years.

Seth looked up and saw him standing there. "Hey man. It's nice that you can stand there and watch people working with such a strange little smirk on your face, but you wanna be a pal and get the salad out of the fridge?" He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Shooting his foster brother a murderous look, Ryan walked to the fridge and pulled out a bowl of salad. His arms and back gave a sudden cry of protest, and Ryan grunted as he walked over to the table.

Reaching for the plastic salad bowl with one hand, Seth took it from his hands and placed it on the table with a quizzical look. "Dude, I'm sorry." He muttered with feigned remorse. "Didn't mean for you to strain yourself."

With another infamous glare, Ryan shut him up. As Sandy walked by him on his way to the table, he gave his foster son a friendly clap on the back, watching as the boy noticeably winced. "Ryan, I think you're taking soccer a little too seriously." He joked, looking him up and down. He noticed a dark bruise peeking out from beneath the hem of Ryan's sleeve and shook his head. "Are you sure you and Luke are friends now? Because this is a little bit reminiscent of your nemesis days."

Ryan rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Well, everyone is a comedian today." He muttered as he pulled his chair out from the table and sat down as the rest of the Cohen clan took a seat.

Seth shook his head. "With the exception of you, of course." He shot back, pointing his fork at Ryan's chest.

"Alright, that's enough." Kirsten warned as she took a sip of her wine, watching Ryan over the rim of her glass. "Leave poor Ryan alone. He's had a rough day." She chastised.

Dropping his knife on his plate and letting it clatter loudly, Seth scratched his head dramatically and pretended to think. "I'm sorry, which part was the most difficult on you, Ry? Was it the sleeping in until noon, or lounging around the pool all day?" He asked himself, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Perhaps it was the three rounds of Halo 2?"

Giving Kirsten another classic look of dismay, Ryan focused on his food. "Thanks a lot." He mumbled sarcastically.

That night, after retiring to bed in the middle of a movie that Ryan hadn't been able to keep his eyes open through, he shut off all the lights in the pool house and for once, drew the curtains. His head was still killing him and the lights that were spilling in from the main house were adding to hammering behind his eyes. After staggering to the bathroom and downing two Aspirin, Ryan collapsed on his bed and buried his head in the softness of his pillow. Okay, so maybe he was a bit under the weather. Right now he sure felt like crap.

Pulling the blankets up to his chin and wishing suddenly that the pool house were warmer, he allowed himself a low moan now that he was alone for what seemed like the first time in days. Cursing himself silently as he closed his eyes, Ryan realized that as much as he told himself he didn't like Kirsten's mothering, he wished for a moment that he hadn't dismissed her concern the way he had. And now he'd have to face Seth tomorrow since Sandy and Kirsten would be at work. Just great.

As sleep finally claimed him, Ryan tried to push aside the feeling that something was not right, a feeling that nagged at him from somewhere inside his head. That and the sudden realization that he had forgotten to call Marissa. Again, he thought, just great.

A/N: Granted, not much happened in this chapter. But believe me, the drama is just beginning. Please r/r, it will help me write the next chapter sooner! Thanks!

Vancouverite


	2. Blood

A/N: Wow, everyone who reviewed has been so great. I never thought I'd get so much positive feedback from this, my first fic. Swenglish, man, let me say I'm a fan, and for you to review the way you did was awesome to say the least. Same goes for everyone else who bothered with me. You guys are the best. Keep reviewing, it feeds my writing hunger. Cheers.

**FADING – Chapter Two**

**Monday**

To Ryan's relief, when he woke up the next morning his headache had gratefully relented somewhat. Breathing deeply and feeling refreshed for the first time in days, Ryan got out of bed, raised the blinds, and looked out at a sun-filled, cloudless sky. When he glanced at his watch, however, his jaw dropped: It was three o'clock in the afternoon.

"What the hell?" Ryan asked himself aloud as got dressed quickly, throwing on a pair of jeans and a wife beater. Quickly he left the pool house, wondering why no one had bothered to wake him up.

Marissa, Seth, and Summer were in the living room looking bored. Marissa and Summer sat on the floor painting their nails while Seth was on the couch submerged in a game of Playstation, narrating annoyingly as he went.

Seth glanced at Ryan briefly when he noticed his foster brother for the first time, his eyes narrowed in concern. "Well, if it surfaces." He said dryly, his attention focusing back on the game. "What's up, Sleeping Beauty? Thought you were planning on napping your way through vacation."

Giving him a glare, Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked as he sat down beside Seth on the couch and Marissa gave him a kiss.

Summer rolled her eyes. "Chino, don't you think we tried? We wanted to go down to the pier, but some of us wouldn't leave without you." She took a seat beside her boyfriend and elbowed Seth in the ribs. "Cohen was practically jumping on top of you and you didn't wake up. I've never seen anyone sleep like that." She allowed Seth to drape an arm across her shoulders.

"Yeah, dude. Since when do you sleep like the dead, anyway?" Seth questioned, turning to give Ryan an incredulous look. "Usually you're up at the crack of dawn, now you're sleeping practically all the time, and when you're not, you look exhausted."

Ryan ignored his questions. "Why the hell is everyone on my case these days? I've just been tired, give it a rest." He snarled, his tone unintentionally harsh. Marissa reached for his hand, but he pulled out of her grip and walked away from the group, down the hall to the kitchen.

He wasn't surprised a few minutes later when Seth appeared behind him as he stood cutting an apple at the counter. "What's with you lately, man?" Ryan's foster brother asked, his tone a mixture of concern and irritation. "Is something up? Like, your mom, Trey, whatever it is you know you can tell me." Seth insisted, coming a little closer to stand beside Ryan, leaning against the counter top so that he could see his face.

Avoiding Seth's eyes, Ryan focused on the knife slicing cleanly through the flesh of the apple and tried to keep his anger under wraps. All this concern and questions from everyone was beginning to get on his nerves. "Nothing is wrong, Seth." He said lowly.

"Really? 'Cause you could have fooled me."

"Seth, it's nothing, okay?" Ryan snapped, shooting the other boy a warning look. "I've just been tired lately, that's all."

Seth sighed. "Okay. Then how about you explain where all these bruises came from?" he challenged, pointing to Ryan's upper arms.

When Ryan followed his gaze, he noticed for the first time the assortment of purple bruises that dotted his arms, ranging from the size of a dime to as large as a fist. Some were faded, but some were quite vivid and new. Swallowing hard, Ryan tamped down a fleeting stab of shock and continued cutting his apple. "I don't remember. I must have fallen or something." He said lamely.

With a snort, Seth shook his head. "Right. You fell." He stood up and walked to the fridge, getting out a couple cans of soda before turning to go back into the living room. "I don't know what's up with you, dude, but I hope you tell me soon, that's all I have to say."

Before Ryan could reply, a stab of pain assaulted his senses and he looked down at his index finger in shock, realizing that he had cut himself with the blade of the knife. "Shit!" He exclaimed as blood began to seep from the deep cut. Dropping the knife, he clamped a fist around the wound.

"What's the matter?" Seth asked, suddenly appearing beside him again. "You cut yourself?" He asked casually, leaning over to inspect.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah." Suddenly he felt light headed. The overhead lights suddenly seemed very bright, and his knees seemed to be shaking. Plus that damned headache was back full-force. Ryan gripped the counter with his good hand and realized that blood was beginning to pour down his wrist and forearm at an alarming rate. "I think it's bad." He mumbled.

Seth had paled considerably. "Oh my God." He murmured, reaching blindly for a dish towel and wrapping it tightly around Ryan's hand. Seth grabbed Ryan's shoulder and led him to a chair at the breakfast table. "Here, sit down. Hold onto that towel tight." He instructed.

Marissa and Summer entered the kitchen and stood in shock, taking in the scene before them. The towel Ryan struggled to hold against his hand had once been white and now was almost completely red. "Oh my God, Cohen! What did you do?" Summer gasped.

"Very funny." Seth muttered as he sat across from Ryan and studied his face carefully. "You okay, dude? Does it hurt a lot?" He asked worriedly.

Ryan swallowed hard, trying not to let the slight spinning of the room register on his face. "It's not that bad." He said slowly, wondering why his voice sounded funny to his own ears.

Marissa was kneeling in front of him. "Not that bad?" She reached for another towel on the counter and wrapped it around the already drenched one around his hand. "Ryan, you're bleeding all over the place. What the hell happened?" She asked, brushing Ryan's bangs out of his eyes.

Ryan didn't answer, so Seth spoke up, his eyes never leaving Ryan's suddenly pale face. "He cut himself on a knife." He answered, his voice shaking. "I think we need to take him to the hospital. He needs stitches or something."

Trying to be of some use, Summer reached for the keys to the Cohen's Range Rover that were sitting atop a pile of newspapers on the counter. "We're taking your car. I don't want Chino's blood all over my upholstery." When Ryan shot her a withering look, she ruffled his hair and smiled sweetly. "Just kidding."

"Come on, Ry." Seth put a hand under his foster brother's arm and pulled him to his feet, but once in a standing position Ryan's vision swam and he swayed, tilting forward. "Hey, hang on, buddy. Don't keel over on me now." Seth told him as he draped Ryan's arm across his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. Marissa did the same and together the foursome walked out of the house.

Seth deposited Ryan gently into the back seat and then climbed into the driver's side with Summer beside him. Marissa sat in the back with Ryan, worry and fear lining her features. "Ryan, hang on, okay?" She soothed softly, her fingers carding gently through his hair. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

Once they were on the road, Seth found himself unable to take his eyes off the sight of Ryan's sheet-white face in the rear-view mirror, and unconsciously stepped on the gas pedal harder. "Ryan, you still with me, man?" He asked worriedly.

A small nod was his only reply.

Marissa was gripping the towel around his injured hand tightly. "There's so much blood, you guys." She said shakily.

Turning in her seat, Summer studied Ryan's face. "Hold his hand up, Coop." She told her friend. At the surprised looks she got from both Seth and Marissa, Summer shrugged. "What? You think I'm a candy striper for nothing?"

For several minutes the tension inside the car grew, at which time Seth spent anxiously trying to reach his parents at work, Summer tried to keep everyone calm, and Marissa desperately coaxed Ryan to keep his heavily-lidded eyes open. His blood now soaked through both the towels and dripped steadily onto the denim of his jeans. Marissa's hands were stained red as well, and Ryan's condition was quickly decreasing. His breathing was shallow and his skin was deathly pale. He was losing too much blood.

When Ryan's eyes slipped shut and his head fell to rest on Marissa's shoulder, she turned to Seth, panicked. "Seth, go faster!" She begged.

Something was really wrong.

"We've been here forever, isn't a doctor or someone supposed to come out and tell us how the hell our friend is doing?" Seth complained for what seemed like the millionth time. They had been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for almost two hours now, and still no word on Ryan's condition.

Summer watched her boyfriend pace. "Cohen, it hasn't been that long. I'm sure he's fine, they just need to stitch him up and top off his blood supply, I guess." She shrugged and looked wearily at Marissa. Her friend was in just as bad condition as Seth; both were miserable.

By the time they had arrived at the hospital Ryan was almost completely unresponsive, having practically passed out in the back seat. The only responses he gave were moans as he thrashed and shivered in a cold sweat. They figured he had gone into shock. When they arrived at the hospital, orderlies met them in the parking lot and Ryan had been whisked off on a stretcher.

Marissa shifted nervously in her seat. "Did you call your parents?" She asked Seth.

With an absent nod, Seth continued pacing. "He was losing way too much blood. I mean, Rosa's kitchen knife collection is sharp, I've cut myself more times than I care to remember on those damn things, but never was it this bad, this is really, really, _really_ bad, right?" He shook his head to himself, walking faster. "I don't know. Maybe he hit like a freakin' central line to his heart or something…"

Marissa rolled her eyes. "In his finger? Seth, spare me."

"Well I can't just sit around and do nothing!" Seth shouted. "Something is really wrong!"

Summer caught his hand and stopped him. "Seth, cut it out!" She begged, and finally Seth's movements stilled and he came to a stop, sitting beside her on the small couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, Summer watched as her boyfriend rested his head in his hands and sighed. She rubbed his back reassuringly. "I'm sure Chino will be fine. I'm sure a doctor will be here any second. And then your folks will come and we'll all go home. You'll see, Cohen. I'm sure everything will be fine." She said softly.

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Seth let out a long breath of air. "Yeah?" He asked rhetorically. "Then why do I have the feeling that something really bad is going to happen?"

Summer didn't know how to answer that one

Suddenly the familiar click of high heels sounded down the hall and Seth looked up to see his Kirsten and Sandy walking quickly towards them, matching looks of fear written plainly on their faces. Seth had never been so happy to see his parents.

"Seth? I picked up your father from his office as soon as I got your message and we got here as quickly as we could." Kirsten explained quickly as Seth got to his feet. She took in her son's clearly distraught expression and the looks on the faces on his friends and her stomach sunk. "What happened, Seth? You were pretty vague on the phone." She demanded.

"Ryan cut himself on a knife in the kitchen. It didn't seem so bad, but…" his voice trailed off, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensively, his eyes staring at the floor. "There was so much blood, mom." He said softly.

Pushing aside her fear for the time being, Kirsten put an arm around her son and kissed his forehead. "I'm sure he'll be fine, honey."

Sandy began looking around anxiously. "And no doctor has come out to see you yet?" He demanded angrily. "What kind of hospital is this?" He wondered aloud.

"I guess I am to blame for that." Came a voice from behind them, and everyone turned to see a doctor wearing scrubs standing a few feet away holding a clip board. "I'm Dr. Collins, I've been monitoring Ryan Atwood's condition. I assume that you're his parents?" He asked, extending a hand to first Sandy, then Kirsten.

Sandy nodded. "Yes, we are." He answered quickly, not even hesitating to correct him. Ryan was as much a son to them as Seth was. "How is he?"

Dr. Collins smiled. "Ryan's doing just fine. We got his bleeding under control, we're just treating him now for shock, and watching him closely. He had a mild fever when he was brought in." He explained warmly. "We took a look at his preliminary blood work and noticed that he's a little anemic, which probably explains why he lost so much blood. It's probably nothing more than an iron deficiency, but we're just going to do a few more minor tests to be sure. But not to worry, your son should be ready to go home by this evening with nothing more than a few stitches." He nodded confidently at the Cohen family and watched them breathe a sigh of relief.

Summer stood up and smiled at Seth. "See? I told you." She said, swatting his arm playfully. Then she turned to Marissa. "Come on, Coop, I'm hungry. Let's find a vending machine."

Dr. Collins focused his attention on Kirsten and Sandy once more. "I can take you back to see him right now if you like." He suggested.

"Thank you, doctor." Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be great."

"Not a problem. Just be warned, he's still a little shaken. He did lose a lot of blood today." Dr. Collins forewarned. "I'd just like him to stay put until we get that blood work back. Then he'll be free to go."

As they followed the doctor down the hall, Sandy couldn't help but notice the look of worry that marred his son's features. It was obvious that something was still on the boy's mind and bothering him a good deal. Sandy slowed down and put an arm around Seth's shoulders. "Cheer up, son. Didn't you hear the doctor? Ryan is going to be just fine." He assured him.

Seth didn't look convinced. "I'll believe it when I see it." He muttered.

A/N: I didn't want to end the chapter here, believe me. But much more would have been overkill. Plus what comes next is going to be pretty intense, I figured this was about all the drama this chapter could handle. With all the positive feedback I've been getting, another update is just around the corner!

Vancouverite


	3. Not Time to Worry

A/N: I really can't believe how many people are reading and liking this story. You guys are so awesome and make me want to just pump out each chapter as quickly as I can. I'll do my best! Beachtree, you rock my world, buddy. I love your comments. And you couldn't be more right: we need to get Swenglish going on fics as well. Keep it coming, people. This story has such a loooong way to go. Enjoy!

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**FADING – Chapter Three**

**Monday Evening**

Kirsten didn't know what to expect when she walked into Ryan's hospital room with Seth and Sandy in tow. She probably would have been prepared for bandages. She wouldn't have been surprised if Ryan looked miserable, and was more than a little pissed off about having to be stuck in a hospital for a few hours. But when she finally followed Dr. Collins into a mostly bare, stark white hospital room, she felt as though she had been slapped in the face.

Ryan, the boy she loved as much as her own son, lay prone in a hospital bed in the middle of the room, propped up on a few pillows. His face was ashen and as pale as the sheets that were tucked up to his chin. His bangs covered his slightly sweat-dampened forehead, spilling over onto his closed eyes. An IV hung on a metal hanger beside the bed with a saline drip connecting into the back of his hand, and another bag hung beside it, filled half-way with blood. Ryan looked small, and very young, nowhere near the tough, mature sixteen year old she knew and loved.

Kirsten hurried to his side and sat down in a chair that had been pulled up to the bed. "Ryan?" She said softly, kissing his forehead and sweeping his hair off his face. When he didn't respond, she looked to the doctor questioningly.

"He's been in and out, Mrs. Cohen. Right now rest is the best thing for him." The doctor smiled reassuringly. "I have to complete my rounds now. A nurse should be in soon to take Ryan's vitals, I'll have her update you on the test results as soon as we have news. You'll be able to take your son home in no time."

Sandy stood behind his wife and gently kneaded her shoulders before shaking Dr. Collins' hand. "Thank you, Doc." He said, then turning his attention to the boy in the bed. "Well, that's good news, right?" Sandy said positively, reaching down and giving Ryan's hand a gentle squeeze.

Ryan barely stirred.

Noticing Seth standing a few feet away from the bed with his arms crossed and a disapproving look on his face, Kirsten smiled at her son. "Seth, honey, Ryan is going to be okay." She said gently. "You heard the doctor. I know he doesn't look his best right now, but he'll be feeling better in no time."

Before Seth had a chance to reply, Ryan mumbled softly and his eyelids fluttered for a few moments before they opened to reveal two tired blue eyes. He squinted up at Sandy and Kirsten for a few moments before smiling slightly. "Hey. What are you guys doing here?" He asked softly.

"Seth called us, sweetie. We got here as soon as we heard what happened." Kirsten replied, running her fingers through his hair.

"You didn't have to do that." Ryan said, guilt and embarrassment evident on his face. "I just cut my finger. It's no big deal."

Sandy had to laugh. "Ryan, you are King of the Understatement." He chuckled, giving his foster son a pat on the shoulder. "You do realize where you are right now, right?" He grinned, watching as Ryan lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry. You didn't have to leave work just to come here for this." Ryan said softly.

Sharing a look of disbelief and concern with his wife, Sandy shook his head vehemently. "Ryan, you just don't get it." He said gently. "When one of our kids is hurt, or sick, we're there. No buts about it." He told him seriously.

Looking more than a little bit surprised at the use of the term 'one of our kids', Ryan cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Thank you." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. When he dared to look up again, he noticed Seth standing a awkwardly to the side, looking more than a little uncomfortable and regarding Ryan thoughtfully, eyes full of worry and concern. "Hey, man. The girls couldn't stand the gore, I guess, right?" Ryan asked lightly.

After a brief hesitation some of Seth's walls came down and he moved closer to the bed. "Nah, they're just down the hall getting snacks." He explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a hand on his foster brother's shoulder. "You sure had me going there, dude. I thought you were a goner for awhile."

"Me? Never." Ryan smiled at Seth, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "I was just looking for an excuse to bloody up your car."

Kirsten's face paled. "My car is bloody?" She asked fearfully.

While Ryan ducked his head, Seth's face broke out into a wide grin and he laughed as his mother's disgusted face. "Just a tad, mom. Don't worry, it makes it look tough." He reasoned.

Rolling her eyes, Kirsten shook her head. "Oh brother."

Just as the room had begun to regain some normality, a middle-aged nurse bustled in with graying hair and a firm expression. Ryan could tell that they were not going to be friends. She gave the Cohens a brittle smile and then began messing around with Ryan's finger bandages. "I'm Kathy. You're Ryan, I presume?" She asked quickly as she began unwrapping the gauze around his injured index finger and poked at his stitches.

"Gee, what tipped you off…Ow!" Ryan exclaimed as she hit a particularly tender spot. "That just got stitched up, you know, I'd like it to stay that way for a while." He griped, pulling his hand out of the nurse's grasp and giving her an annoyed look.

Sandy tried not to laugh. "Ryan…" He chastised half-heartedly.

"Oh, come on, tough guy." Kathy bemused, rewrapping his finger with fresh bandages before she checked his IV and began taking his pulse. "Surely you can handle a little bit of prodding if it means your freedom."

Seth's ears perked up. "So when does he get out of this joint?"

"Seth, don't say 'joint'." Kirsten warned.

With a roll of his eyes, Sandy looked at Kathy. "Does that mean that Ryan's test results are back? He can go home now?" Sandy asked hopefully.

Kathy finished taking Ryan's blood presser and put a thermometer in Ryan's mouth to take his temperature. "Doctor Collins is just reviewing them now. He'll be with you shortly." She said unenthusiastically as the thermometer beeped and she took it out of her patient's mouth, frowning slightly at the reading. "Well, you've got a slight fever but the wound shows no signs of infection. Have you been sick recently?" She asked, her focus on Ryan.

"No…" He began.

"Yes." Kirsten and Seth jumped in quickly, ignoring the look of betrayal Ryan shot at them. Kirsten took over as she looked at the nurse. "He's been very tired lately and yesterday he had a headache. I told him he had the flu, but he didn't listen to me. I've been meaning to take him to the doctor." She explained helpfully.

Writing on her clipboard, Kathy nodded. "Right. Well, that's all I need from you right now, Ryan. It's been a pleasure." She said sarcastically before shooting him one more enigmatic smile and leaving the room.

After she was gone, Seth bit back a snort of laughter. "Was she Mary Sunshine, or what?" He asked rhetorically.

A few moments later Marissa and Summer entered the room. Marissa made a beeline for Ryan in the bed and had her arms around him in an instant. "You're looking better. My God, I was so worried." She kissed him before sitting back to study his face. "How are you feeling?" She asked worriedly.

Ryan smiled. "Better." He told her, pushing her hair behind her ears. Then he looked at Summer. "You two find a vending machine?" He asked.

Summer shook her head. "This place is devoid of sustenance. We were just actually coming up here to tell you that we're going to find the cafeteria." She linked an arm around her boyfriend's waist. "Cohen, you wanna come?"

"Nah…" Seth replied.

Ryan chuckled. "Seth, go on. I'll be fine." He insisted. "We're just waiting for the doctor to come back, anyway. I'll survive a few minutes without you. Go."

With a fake hurt expression, Seth held a hand over his heart. "Ryan, you wound me! But fine, I'll go. I know when I'm not wanted." He gave Ryan a final pat on the shoulder before leading the girls out of the room with an arm around Summer's shoulders. As they neared the doorway, he turned and looked at his foster brother expectantly. "You want anything? Anyone?" He directed the last part to his parents.

Ryan shook his head but Sandy and Kirsten both said "coffee," and with that Seth was gone.

After a few minutes had passed Sandy and Kirsten had removed their coats and were seated in the chairs by Ryan's bed, talking about plans for the summer and trying to help make the time pass faster. Finally, at six o'clock the Dr. Collins returned literally scratching his head. He heaved a sigh as he entered the room. "Well, Ryan, it's good to see you awake." He tucked the chart he had been holding under his arm and focused on his patient. "Do you remember me? You were a little out of it when I first treated you."

Though he seemed to think a moment, recognition flickered in Ryan's eyes and he nodded grimly. "Yeah. You're the guy who kept flashing a light in my eyes." He said, voice tinged with annoyance.

Dr. Collins laughed. "Guilty as charged. You're looking a lot better, though." He said warmly. "How's the finger?"

"Fine." Ryan's eyes narrowed as he regarded his doctor carefully. He had always been good at reading people, especially adults, and could always tell when they were either lying, or uncomfortable. Dr. Collins seemed to be both. "But I get the feeling that's not the reason you're here right now." Ryan said slowly.

For a moment, Dr. Collins said nothing. When he did, his voice was less enthused. "You're too smart for me." He said, smiling in a way that made Ryan nervous.

Kirsten sat up straighter. "Did you get Ryan's test results back?" She asked.

"Yes, I did." Dr. Collins said slowly, as if working out in his head what he was planning on saying beforehand. "And frankly, I don't have the best news, Ryan. I'm afraid we're going to have to run some more tests." He said, his attention now completely on his patient in the bed.

Ryan's face fell. "You mean I'm going to have to stay here longer?" He asked gloomily.

The doctor nodded. "Looking at your tests I see that not only is your red blood cell count very low, but your white cell count is abnormally high. To say that you're anemic would be a vast understatement. And…that makes me very worried, to be honest. It means that you could possibly have any number of blood diseases." He stated bluntly.

In an instant, Ryan felt his stomach sink. He felt Kirsten move closer to the bed and put an arm around his shoulders and he shivered involuntarily, grateful for the warmth. When he looked at her face, she was listening to the doctor intently, her expression full of concern. Sandy looked different…he had gone pale and his eyes were wide with shock. He looked as though he had seen a ghost.

"But…I thought you said that his anemia could be related to an iron deficiency." Kirsten said softly, her voice very close to cracking. Her hand began to gently stroke Ryan's arm, and he hadn't realized that almost every muscle in his body had tensed.

Dr. Collins nodded vehemently. "Which is still a possibility, Mrs. Cohen. We just need to conduct more advanced tests to rule out any diseases. It's just that…Ryan is a really healthy, strong kid and shouldn't be exhibiting symptoms like this. Now, it could all just be one big coincidence and all he has is the flu and needs to start taking iron supplements, but if it's something else, we need to know what we're dealing with. Fast." He added as an afterthought. He turned his attention back to Ryan. "Now, Kathy told me that you still have a fever, and that you mentioned you've been suffering from fatigue, and headaches. Is there anything else that you can tell me?"

Ryan swallowed hard and forced himself to answer. "Uh…I haven't really had that much of an appetite lately, I guess." He said softly, not liking the weakness in his voice.

"Okay. I also can't help but notice the bruises on your arms. Is that from a particular incident that you can relate them to?" He asked, and watched Ryan shake his head silently. "Have you been having any muscle or joint aches or pains recently?" The nod Ryan gave added to the already growing knot he felt forming in his stomach.

Kirsten cleared her throat. "What's the next step, Dr. Collins?" She asked, giving Ryan's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

With a sigh, the doctor took off his glasses and faced Kirsten with a serious expression. "Well, we'll need a sample of Ryan's bone marrow to rule out any forms of cancer. If that comes up clean, we'll go from there." He turned back to Ryan. "I hope you're up for it tonight, Ryan. I'd really like to rule everything out as quickly as we can, if that's alright with you."

At the word 'cancer' Ryan had felt momentarily breathless. But then he reminded himself that nothing was for certain yet, and that all the doctors wanted to do was rule it out. He was going to be fine. Ryan nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sure." He said softly. "Let's get it over with."

"Alright. I'll have to make a few preparations to get you into an operating room tonight, but I'd like to aim for around eight o'clock. I'll drop by a bit later this evening to go over the procedure with you. Until then, I just want you to relax." Dr. Collins said, smiling warmly and patting Ryan's leg.

Kirsten stood up then and shook his hand as he prepared to leave. "Thank you." She said quietly before turning back to give Ryan a hug.

Before the doctor left he turned to Sandy, who had been silent ever since Dr. Collins had entered the room. The man's face was pale and slack with shock and obvious fear, and the doctor felt the need to put him more or less at ease. He put a gentle, friendly hand on Sandy's shoulder and said "It's not time to worry yet".

Sandy could only nod numbly.

* * *

When Seth, Marissa, and Summer returned to Ryan's hospital room several minutes later they couldn't believe the change they felt upon entering. Ryan was sitting silently in bed, his face the picture of misery. Kirsten sat on the side of the mattress beside her foster son, having pushed the railing down, and had an arm around Ryan and was stroking his hair gently, murmuring to him softly so that Seth couldn't hear her from the doorway. Sandy looked detached and bereft, sitting stonily in a chair beside Ryan's bed, his head bowed slightly and his eyes glued to the floor. There was something very frightening in his father's face that scared him to death. 

"Wow. Who died?" Seth asked jokingly as he walked in holding two cups of coffee.

Kirsten looked up and glanced at Ryan before shooting her son a warning glare. "Seth, that's not funny." She snapped, giving Ryan's hand a squeeze before getting up to take one of the plastic cups from his hands.

Marissa sat beside Ryan and searched his face, worriedly. "What's wrong?" She asked gently. "Did something happen while we were downstairs?"

When it dawned on Seth, his eyes widened and darted from Ryan, to Kirsten, and then to Sandy. "What did the doctor say? Is everything okay? Ryan can come home tonight, right? Did something show up on the tests? How…"

"Seth, why don't you take the girls and head home for the night." Sandy interrupted, still not looking up from where his eyes were fixed on the floor. "Marissa, Summer, I'm sure your parents are wondering where you are by now." His voice left little desire to question him.

Seth looked confused. "But Dad, I'm not leaving until Ryan comes home." He insisted.

This time Sandy looked up, his eyes flashing angrily. "Ryan has to stay here for a little while longer. Now don't make me tell you again." He instructed briskly. "Take the Range Rover and drive the girls home. And get to bed at a decent hour. You have school in the morning."

Kirsten was looking at her husband in surprise. "Sandy…"

"Seth, please do as I said." Sandy put in. "We'll call you later."

Though Seth looked as though he wanted to protest, he turned away from his father and sighed. "Fine." He muttered, turning to Ryan and extending a fist to knock knuckles with him. "I guess I'll see you later, man." He said quietly.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah."

Marissa leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Call me when you're home, okay?" She said before reluctantly getting up from the bed and walking towards the door.

"Get well soon, Chino." Summer said as the three of them waved goodbye and cast one last longing look at their friend before heading quietly out the door.

Kirsten had been staring at her husband throughout the exchange, and now that they were gone she didn't know what to say. Turning to Ryan, she brushed back his bangs and kissed his forehead gently. "I'll be right back, sweetie. You need anything?" She asked.

"Yeah. To get out of here." Ryan mumbled back.

Kirsten smiled at him sadly before turning to her husband. "Sandy. A word outside." She said before turning and walking out the door to wait in the hall,

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Sandy stood up slowly. Without saying a word to his foster son he ruffled his hair fondly and followed his wife out of the room.

When the door closed, Ryan heaved a sigh and leaned back into his pillows. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse. He just hoped that this was as difficult as it would get. But for some reason, he knew that hope was wrong.

* * *

A/N: Wow, a long one. I hope it's not dragging. Next chapter, I swear, is where it all unravels. Bring on the drama! I've been so eager to write that future chapters sit on my hard drive because I don't want to seem too quick to upload…I need my readers to be left hungry for more…heehee, how evil of me. Cheers! 

Vancouverite


	4. Knowing

A/N: Yes, another installment so quickly. Hopefully nobody gets sick of me. But as it has been said, this story is pouring out of me and I can only comply by letting my fingers do the walking…er, typing. To touch bases with a few, thanks a load for the reviews. You people are brilliant, and about to realize that most of your assumptions were correct (hmmm…they're onto me!). Oh, and beachtree, you are my idol. Seriously, you are my comrade. From what you've said my writing has gotten through to you the way I hoped it would. You're seeing the characters as I've tried to portray them. Your reviews fuel me, mon ami. If there's anything I can ever do for you, let me know. Cheers!

* * *

**FADING – Chapter Four**

**Monday Night**

Sandy closed the door to Ryan's hospital room as he entered the hallway and turned to see his wife a few feet away sitting in a chair perched against a wall. Her body language told him that not only was she angry with him, but also extremely nervous. Sandy could read Kirsten's expression like an open book after years of marriage and could tell that she was clearly upset and very concerned for their foster son. When he walked up to her, however, Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she glared up at him defiantly.

"What was that all about?" She asked, her tone confused and frustrated.

Heaving a sigh, Sandy put his hands in the pockets of his suit coat and stared at his feet, wondering absently when he would get a chance to change out of his work clothes. "What do you mean?" He asked lamely.

"You know exactly what I mean, Sandy." She replied lowly. "Why did you have to make a scene in front of Ryan like that? It's obvious that he's scared right now, you didn't have to order Seth to leave, his best friend. Or Marissa and Summer, for that matter."

Shifting from one leg to the other, Sandy shook his head. "Kirsten, what Ryan doesn't need right now are Seth's sarcastic jokes and remarks…"

"You mean _you_ don't need his jokes and remarks." Kirsten jumped in, studying her husband's face quizzically.

At that, Sandy finally looked up. His expression was stony. "Fine. Is that so terrible? He's our son, Kirsten, and I love him, he's a good kid. But right now we've got enough to worry about with Ryan and I think that we should just focus on cleaning this mess up and getting him home." He said, raking a hand through his hair and loosening his tie. Suddenly the day was catching up with him and he felt very tired.

Kirsten's eyebrows knit together in confusion and she leaned forward, watching her husband's face. "What's wrong, Sandy?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Sandy refocused his attention on the white linoleum floor. "Nothing." He replied softly. "I just want to take Ryan home, that's all. I don't like seeing him in here."

"You think I do? Honey, I want him home just as bad as you do, believe me. But this isn't a mess we can just argue our way out of. Ryan is sick, and until we know what's really wrong, he needs to stay here." Kirsten told him, reaching for his hand and gently tracing her thumb over his palm. "But no matter what happens, you and I have to be strong for him. Right?" She told him, kissing his cheek.

Pulling out of her grasp, Sandy stared deeply into her eyes, his gaze burning with determination. "But nothing is going to happen." Sandy said firmly.

Kirsten looked confused. "What?"

"There's nothing wrong with Ryan, Kirsten. He isn't sick." Sandy stated, blue eyes flashing. "He's going to be fine." He began to take several steps away from her, his expression lost.

Her eyes filled with sympathy, Kirsten blinked against the onslaught of tears. "How can you be so sure?" She asked, swallowing over a lump that had formed in her throat. "Sandy, I know this is difficult, but we're the parents here. We have to be strong; we have to be able to handle whatever Dr. Collins tells us, good or bad." She begged.

Sandy shook his head. "We will, Kirsten, because nothing is going to happen." He said again. "Ryan is going to be fine…he has to be." He mumbled before turning away. "I'm going for a walk. Clear my head." He tossed over his shoulder, and disappeared around the corner.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Kirsten watched her husband leave. Then, taking several steadying breaths, she braced herself and reached for the doorknob to go back into Ryan's room. At least one of them had to keep it together.

* * *

The evening ticked by agonizingly slow. After Kirsten had been the only one to return to the hospital room, Ryan taken in the sad look on her face and the absence of Sandy as a very bad sign, and his misery had heightened. Ever since Sandy had had heard Dr. Collins news about Ryan's blood tests he had been uncharacteristically quiet, and Ryan hadn't liked what he had seen in his eyes: Sandy was scared. If Ryan didn't know any better, he'd say that he was scared, too. But he would never tell anyone.

Kirsten had tried to smile and told Ryan that Sandy had just gone to the bathroom and that he would be back soon. But after an hour had passed it became pretty clear that their discussion in the hall had been a bit more serious. Ryan couldn't help but feel guilty if they'd had a fight. He thought that maybe Sandy didn't want to put up with him anymore.

When seven thirty ticked by, Ryan didn't think he could stand waiting much longer. Kirsten had remained at his bedside the entire time, even as he had dozed off and on frequently. Whenever he opened his eyes she was there smiling at him. Ryan didn't know what made her stay, but he was glad she did. His own mother had certainly never paid much attention to him when he was sick.

There was a knock at the door. "Ryan?" It was Dr. Collins. "I got everything set up for your marrow aspiration. I just need a few minutes to go over the procedure with you." He looked around the room as if searching for someone. "Is your dad around? He'd probably want to hear this, too."

It took Ryan a moment to realize who the doctor meant by 'dad' and when he did, he didn't know what to say. Kirsten, thankfully, answered for him. "Sandy just stepped out for awhile. Go ahead and talk to us now, I'm not sure when he'll be back, but I can catch him up to speed later." She said quietly, reaching for Ryan's hand and holding it tightly.

"Right. Well, it's a pretty straight-forward procedure. It won't take much longer than twenty minutes." Dr. Collins explained as he came into the room and stood at the foot of Ryan's bed. "What we'll do is…"

The door to the room opened and Sandy stuck his head in. His expression was pensive, but Ryan could immediately tell that something was different about him. His gaze was different now as he entered the room, clearing his throat. "Sorry I'm late." Sandy said as he walked over to the bed, locking eyes with Kirsten briefly and seeing her smile. He pulled up a chair beside Ryan and took his other hand, giving it a squeeze and catching his eyes for a moment. The look Sandy gave him was apologetic, but full of love and concern. "Did I miss anything?"

Dr. Collins smiled warmly. "I was just about to go over the procedure, Mr. Cohen." He said. "As I was saying, it's very standard; Ryan won't even have to be put under. Ryan, what we do is insert a thin aspirating needle into your breastbone. You'll be given a shot of local anesthesia at the site, so you'll hardly feel a thing. The needle will go into the hollow part of your bone and we'll withdraw a small sample of marrow into the syringe. All you'll feel is a pressure on your chest. Then you'll be brought back here to your room." He made it sound simple.

Sandy looked a little green. "Will it hurt him at all?" He asked worriedly.

The doctor smiled. "The procedure itself shouldn't be too painful. When the anesthesia wears off, however, the patient will feel a good deal of discomfort, specifically in the bone. Some swelling is to be expected, as well. But it all wears off in a day or so." He explained. "This procedure is very necessary right now, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. Cancer or lymphoma are our biggest concerns. As soon as this is out of the way we can all breathe a little easier." He smiled reassuringly and patted Ryan's shoulder. "You all ready, Ryan?"

Ryan drew in a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be." He replied quietly. "Let's do it."

* * *

Half an hour later, Ryan was finally returned to his room, much to the relief of Sandy and Kirsten. When he was wheeled in on a stretcher they both shot up from their seats and stood by protectively as two orderlies transferred him back into his newly made bed. Ryan's eyes were closed and he was even paler than before, and Kirsten felt a hand clench her insides with worry.

As she tucked the blankets up around his chin she noticed the dressing they had applied to his chest peeking out from under the neck of his hospital gown. "Oh, sweetie." Kirsten whispered as she brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead.

Ryan moaned softly and turned his head to the side, facing Sandy. Taking the boy's hand in his, Sandy held it gently and stroked his foster son's forearm. "You going to wake up for us, kid?" He asked quietly, studying the ashen face. "On second thought, stay asleep. Nurse Kathy is going to come in here any minute and start bothering you again. I'm sure you don't want to be conscious for that." He chuckled.

After a few moments Ryan's eyes opened to slits and he stared up at Sandy and sighed. "…Time is it?" He mumbled quietly.

Sandy smiled at his confusion. "Its quarter to nine, kiddo."

Ryan brushed a hand near his chest and winced. "Feels like I've got an elephant sitting on my chest." He mumbled.

When Sandy cast a fearful glance in Kirsten's direction, his wife smiled at him and shook her head. "The doctor said that there would be a feeling of pressure." She reminded them both. Then she gazed into Ryan's eyes, lovingly sweeping her fingers through his hair. "How do you feel, honey?" She asked him gently.

Ryan frowned. "Cold." He whispered, and shivered as if on cue.

Sandy hit the call button by the bed. "I'll ask the nurse to bring an extra blanket." he suggested, rubbing Ryan's arm soothingly.

Within minutes Kathy appeared at the door. When Sandy explained that Ryan was cold, the nurse frowned but retrieved a blanket from a shelf in the hall. When she returned she draped it over her patient and began taking his vitals. Once she had finished taking his temperature her frown deepened and she turned to the Cohens. "Looks like his fever is getting a little worse. I'd better tell Dr. Collins." She said and turned to mark it down on the clip board at the foot of the bed.

Kirsten put a gentle hand on Ryan's forehead and sure enough, his skin was warm to the touch. She sighed. "When will we know the results to Ryan's bone marrow exam?" She asked hopefully.

Kathy offered a genuine smile. "Well, Dr. Collins put a rush on the cultures. They're down in the lab now. I'm sure he'll get back to you sometime tonight." She injected something into Ryan's IV and then turned to go. "That's for the pain, Mr. Atwood. Your chest is going to be hurting a lot more when you wake up."

"Good…something to look forward to." Ryan mumbled sleepily.

Sandy laughed. "At least your sense humor hasn't been affected by all of this."

Ryan's eyes slipped shut and he yawned, sinking into his pillow. "M'tired." He murmured with a sigh.

Kirsten brushed her lips across his cheek. "Then go back to sleep, sweetheart." She said quietly. "We'll be right here when you wake up." She promised, catching Sandy's gaze across the bed, sharing similar looks of concern, and fear. But also hope. "We love you." She whispered.

Ryan had already fallen back asleep.

* * *

Ryan woke up at ten o'clock that night in a cold sweat and panting, unable to catch his breath, and in pain. Sandy and Kirsten had been alarmed at his suddenly worsened condition, and called the nurse. Kathy had administered more morphine, jotted down some notes, and left saying, "just try to keep him comfortable."

Even with the extra shot of pain medication, Ryan had been too uncomfortable to sleep. His chest hurt so much that he felt as it were constricted even though he knew his breathing was unaffected. Plus his head hurt again, along with what felt like every joint and bone in his body. He didn't think he could be more miserable. Sandy and Kirsten hovered over him incessantly trying to put him at ease any way they could. Nothing seemed to be working. Not to mention the daunting thought loomed that Dr. Collins still had not returned with his bone marrow test results. Ryan didn't know whether the amount of time he was taking was a good or bad thing.

"Ryan, don't do that. You're going to make it worse, honey." Kirsten chided gently as she watched Ryan clutch at his chest for the fifth time that night.

Swallowing hard, Ryan allowed her to pull his hand away from the dressing on his sternum. "Sorry." He said softly, tossing and turning in the bed. "It's really uncomfortable. And can I get rid of one of these blankets? It's like an oven in here."

Kirsten smiled and folded down the blanket that was on top of him. "I know it hurts, Ryan, but if you keep touching it you're only going to make it worse." She warned, pushing sweat-dampened bangs out of his eyes. "And if I take the blanket off of you you'll only be asking for it again in a few minutes. It's the chills from the fever, sweetie. It'll pass." She soothed gently, watching as his eyes drooped closed. She hoped that would eventually be able to fall asleep. He was so tired and felt so poorly, and yet he was trying so hard to be strong.

"What time is it?" Ryan asked, turning to Sandy. That had become a popular question as the hours wore on. It helped Ryan take his mind off of how badly he felt.

Sandy didn't need to look at his watch. Ryan had asked the same question exactly two minutes ago. "Twelve fourteen." He replied evenly. As Ryan opened his mouth to speak, Sandy jumped in, "and yes I've called Seth. Remember? Once after you went in for the marrow test, then after you were brought back in here and fell asleep, and then again at eleven thirty."

Ryan's eyes fell and he sighed. "I'm sorry." He apologized softly. "You guys must be exhausted. You should go home, I'll be okay." He lied.

Shaking her head, Kirsten lowered her head to try and meet her foster son's gaze. "Ryan, you don't have to apologize for anything, you've done nothing wrong." She soothed, running her fingers through his hair and watching as he closed his eyes in content. She knew he had a headache, but would never complain. "You being sick is not your fault, honey. So I don't want to hear that sentence come out of your mouth again." She chastised.

"And we're not going anywhere, so you can forget about that one, too." Sandy added as he poured some ice water into a cup from a table beside the bed and offered the straw to Ryan, who drank it gratefully. "And if anything, you're the exhausted one. We're doing just fine. Don't worry about us, Ryan. We're just worried about you."

Ryan scrubbed at his eyes. "I can't wait for this night to be over." He muttered.

Sandy adjusted the boy's pillows and massaged his shoulders. "You and us both, kid." He told him gently.

When the door squeaked open, Sandy and Kirsten jumped. They had all gotten used to the unnerving quiet and their own company for such a long time. In an instant all heads turned towards the door to watch as Dr. Collins walked slowly into the room, closing the door behind him. He studied the family for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Looks like you folks have had a long night." He commented quietly.

Kirsten smiled at Ryan warmly. "He's been having a rough time, but we're doing just fine." She said, reaching for his hand and holding it in her own, her fingers wound in between his.

Dr. Collins nodded and tried to return her smile, but the look on his face was one of sympathy and remorse, and Ryan felt a chill run through him. When he felt Kirsten squeeze his hand as a reminder that she was there with him, some of the coldness surrounding him melted away, but the fear in the pit of his stomach remained. He knew that the news was not going to be good. But a part of his brain wouldn't let him believe that.

"Well, Ryan, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, I'm sure you can't handle waiting any longer, so I'm going to cut to the chase." He said finally after a long, cold pause. Pulling a third chair up to the side of the bed, Dr. Collins sat forward and regarded his young patient with warm, considerate, but terribly sad eyes. "This is the type of news every doctor dreads having to give…" He began, as if searching for the words. After a moment he took off his glasses and placed them on the bed, something he had done earlier in the day when he had informed them about Ryan's anemia, and Ryan knew at that moment that whatever the doctor had to say was gong to be very, very bad.

Kirsten sucked in a deep breath and suddenly pushed down the bedside railing and sat down on the mattress beside Ryan, an arm around his shoulder pulling him to her tightly. When Ryan glanced at Sandy he saw the same look on the man's face that had been there earlier: unhidden wide-eyed fear. He reached for Ryan's hand and held it tight. They waited for Dr. Collins to continue.

"I went over your marrow results over and over again, Ryan, just to be sure. But what I found…there's no way around it, son. You have Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. I'm so sorry."

Ryan felt as if everything else around him ceased to exist. He no longer felt Kirsten's comforting embrace, or felt the gentle pressure of Sandy's hand holding tightly onto his. Suddenly the pain in his chest was non existent and everything seemed to slow as the word repeated over and over in his head: Leukemia.

Cancer.

Dr. Collins didn't stop talking, and a part of Ryan listened, feeling detached from his body. "Your case seems to be extremely aggressive, it's no wonder your symptoms showed up as suddenly as they did. ALL is a progressive, malignant form of blood cancer. Your malignant cells have lost the ability to mature and function so they're multiplying quite rapidly to replace the normal cells. That's the reason why you lost so much blood from your cut today, Ryan, because the normal blood cells have been reduced in number…Ryan, are you listening to me?"

Somehow, Ryan must have nodded because the doctor started speaking again. "There's no apparent cause, which is the case with most leukemia patients. It's not unusual. It's the leading cancer in children, but it also occurs in some adolescents like yourself. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Ryan?" He asked gently

Ryan's mouth felt as dry as a desert and his tongue felt like lead weight in his mouth. He forced himself to lick his lips and respond. "Yes." He replied, suddenly feeling a wetness on his cheeks. Was he crying? He looked up at Kirsten. No. Kirsten was.

"Now, I don't want you to think that this is hopeless, because it's far from it." Dr. Collins continued, still wearing that damned sympathetic look that Ryan suddenly wanted to slap off his face. "I'm not going to lie to you. Adults with leukemia have a low cure rate, about thirty to fifty percent. But the goal of leukemia is remission, and that has a success rate of about eighty percent. With proper treatment, Ryan, I think we can all have the hope that you will get better, in time."

Swallowing hard, Ryan nodded, unsure of what to say. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? Sandy would know.

But when Ryan looked at Sandy his stomach sunk further. Sandy was pale and his eyes were wide and very, very afraid. Ryan had never seen him look like that before, and hated that he was the cause of it.

Dr. Collins sighed and put a hand on Ryan's leg. "I realize that it's very late, so I'm going to leave now. I know it's a lot of information to take in right now, so we'll go over the technical part tomorrow, Ryan. We'll have to discuss treatment, and…well, it can wait until tomorrow." He stood up then, putting his glasses back on and casting one last remorseful look at the Cohens before heading for the door. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. Try to get some rest, son. Good night." With that, he was gone.

When they were met by silence, whatever resolve Ryan had been holding onto crumbled and shattered; he had leukemia. Nothing was right. Nothing was going to be right ever again.

He hadn't realized he was shaking, or that he was panting instead of breathing properly. He hardly noticed when Kirsten wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug, her chin resting on top of his head as she whispered soothing reassurances into his ear, her tears falling into his hair. He barely felt Sandy's hands gently rubbing and kneading his back, trying vainly to get his painfully tensed muscles to relax. He didn't know how any of them were going to "try to get some rest" after that.

He didn't know anything anymore.

* * *

A/N: Wow. Where did that come from? I hope I didn't stress anyone out, that was major emotion. Well, it's done now, there's no going back. I hope everyone is ok…lol. My sister is visiting for her break and will be taking over the computer, so there's a good chance that I won't be able to update for a few days, definitely longer than I've been taking recently. So please hang in there, I'll post a new chapter as soon as humanly possible. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	5. Visitors

A/N: Wow, it's been forever. Okay, so two weeks, but still, far too long. I'm really sorry for those of you who want to kill me right now for taking so long to update, but you should know that my leave drove me to near insanity, as well. But back I am, and this chapter should be a good one. I want to mention one thing to clear up some confusion first: in chapter three Sandy told Seth to go home and get to bed at a "decent hour" because he had school the next day, right? Wrong. Obviously school is out because it is summer, like I mentioned. That just proves how messed up Sandy is right now. Understand? Ok, cool. Good catch, raindrops falling. Okay, cheers!

* * *

**FADING – Chapter Five**

The smell was what hit him first. An unfamiliar, unwelcoming sterile, chemical-like smell that turned his stomach and made him cringe. Soon he became aware of the harsh mercury lights that were beaming down on his closed eyelids from overhead, taunting him into consciousness. As he moved his hand across the surface of the bed he was met with yet another reminder that he was not at home; the sheets were scratchy and stiff, and the mattress he lay on was barely wide enough to fit him comfortably.

Definitely not home.

Being a kid from Chino, Ryan had never thought that he would ever be lucky enough to live the kind of life the Cohens had. Once he had moved in with them he had promised himself that he would not allow himself to get used to the luxuries he had fallen into, and to never forget that at any minute he could be back to his old life. And yet after just one year of living in their mansion and the perfect world of Newport Beach, Ryan found himself longing for the poolhouse. He craved the queen-sized mattress with Egyptian cotton sheets that smelled like expensive fabric softener that even after all this time he still felt uncomfortable about letting Rosa wash for him. He missed the sunlight that would seep in and wake him up in the morning through his wall of floor to ceiling windows. He wanted to go about his morning routine of bagels and coffee in the kitchen, listening to Seth's easy banter and talk to Sandy about school, to tease Kirsten about yogalates.

"Ryan, honey, are you awake?" Kirsten's gentle voice swept over him as he felt a soft hand stroke his forearm.

Crap. Now he would have to open his eyes. He could no longer pretend that he was in the poolhouse, that any minute his alarm would go off and he would get up. He couldn't imagine that nothing was wrong. He couldn't pretend that he didn't have cancer.

Cancer. There was that word again.

Feeling guilty for making Kirsten worry, Ryan pried his eyes open and squinted under the brightness of the lights shining in his eyes. After a few moments his vision cleared and the day became clear; he was still in the hospital, Kirsten was hovering over him worriedly, and it hadn't been a dream.

Kirsten smiled warmly. "Morning, sweetie."

"Morning." Ryan replied, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

She seemed grateful for the light conversation. "It's almost nine. I just woke up a few minutes ago and found a note Sandy left." Kirsten explained, holding up a piece of paper from her lap with Sandy's familiar scrawl on it. "He went home to shower and get us some changes in clothes. We talked to the nurse and decided you'd be much more comfortable in your own things. And he needed check on Seth."

At the mention of his foster brother's name, Ryan's heart quickened and he tried to sit up. "Seth? Is Sandy going to tell him? Does he already know? Is he…" Ryan trailed off as a stab of pain tore across his chest, momentarily knocking the breath out of his lungs.

Kirsten hurried to his side and helped him lie back down. "Take it easy, honey." She said softly, stroking his hair back away from his face. "Deep breaths are going to hurt. Take it slow, Ryan. Nice and easy." She soothed.

"Ow." Ryan muttered as he took a couple of slow, shallow breaths, waiting for the pain to abate. "I forgot about that."

Smiling, Kirsten adjusted his pillows behind his head. "If you want to sit up I can raise the head of the bed for you." She suggested, and at Ryan's nod she pushed a button by his arm and slowly the bed inclined. "Better?" She asked helpfully.

Ryan nodded. He couldn't help but notice that Kirsten had avoided his question, and he reached out to touch her hand, catching her attention. "Seth?" He reminded her.

"Oh, right." She said hurriedly. "Well, we haven't told him anything yet, honey." She explained gently.

With another nod, Ryan focused his eyes on his hands. He didn't know whether he should be grateful or upset. "Is Sandy bringing him here?"

Kirsten shrugged. "Well, you know Seth. I'm sure he'll refuse to stay behind. He'd probably try to smuggle himself into Sandy's duffel bag if he left without him." After a moment she met his eyes and saw the fear he couldn't hide. Kirsten reached for his hand. "Ryan, if you don't feel ready to talk to Seth, I'll call Sandy right now and he can stay at home. I'm sure Seth would understand."

Ryan shook his head. "No, he should be here. I want him here." He said quickly, swallowing hard. "It's just…how am I going to tell him?" He wondered aloud, a lump forming in his throat.

Kirsten squeezed his hand. "Ryan, we can tell him if you don't want to." She suggested, rubbing his arm soothingly.

"No, no. Thanks, but it has to come from me." He insisted sighing softly. "I just have to figure out how." Ryan said quietly, more to himself than to Kirsten. His eyes glazed over and he stared at the wall, deep in thought, looking lost.

Her eyes filled with tears which Kirsten quickly blinked away. The last thing Ryan needed right now was to see her crying again. He had enough to worry about at the moment. But the helplessly sad tone his voice had taken on, the look of fear in his eyes, and the strength and bravery he tried to convey made her heart break. "Ryan…" Kirsten said softly, her voice cracking slightly. She waited until he met her eyes before she spoke, her hand unconsciously squeezing his. "You know that everything is going to be okay…right?"

Ryan looked back at her and tried to smile. His eyes told her that he was afraid, but also held so much trust that Kirsten felt her heart skip a beat. After a moment he nodded. "Right." He said unconvincingly.

With that Kirsten stood and bent over his bed, sweeping his bangs off his forehead and kissing him gently. "I'm going to go call my Dad and let him know that I won't be in today." She said taking her cellphone out of her purse and heading towards the door. "I'll be right outside, okay? I'll only be a minute."

Nodding absently, Ryan fingered the hem of his blanket. As Kirsten turned to leave the room, he called after her suddenly. "Kirsten." He said, hating how helpless his voice sounded.

Kirsten turned and rushed back to the bed. "What is it, honey?" She asked worriedly.

"Could you…call Sandy please?" He asked softly. "And ask him if he wouldn't mind bringing Marissa, too?" Ryan requested, dark blue eyes traveling up from his fidgeting hands to rest on Kirsten's sympathetic expression.

Plastering a smile onto her face, Kirsten forced herself to nod. "Of course."

Once she was gone, Ryan leaned back into his pillows and covered his face with his hands. He was kidding himself when he tried to believe that some privacy felt nice for the first time in a few days. Being alone meant silence, and silence allowed his thoughts to be amplified, murmuring loudly in his ears and reminding him that maybe this time things wouldn't work out in the end.

* * *

Sandy found himself taking a deep, steadying breath in preparation as he stood outside the front door of his house. Why, he wasn't quite sure. The car ride from the hospital had been an out of body experience, an eerily silent fifteen minute drive in which time Sandy Cohen had not had a single thought. Sure, he had mused quietly about work, what the waves would look like the next time he went surfing, even about what television shows would be on that evening. But not for a single second had he allowed himself to think about what he had left behind at the hospital. He hadn't thought about how nervous and sad his wife had looked even in her sleep as he left. He didn't question the news that had been like a punch in the stomach about Ryan's illness the night before. He certainly didn't let himself think about how scared his foster son had been, how strong he had been trying to act, or how Sandy had rocked him to sleep, crying and shaking in his arms.

He couldn't think about any of that.

After one last steeling moment, Sandy inserted his key and turned the knob, walking into the foyer with what he hoped was with his usual cheerfulness. At the sound of the slamming door, Seth came bounding down the stairs and nearly bowled Sandy over.

"How is Ryan? Is everything okay? Can he come home today?" He asked, speaking a mile a minute, his face drawn with worry and relief at the sight of his father.

Sandy put two steadying hands on his son's shoulders. "One thing at a time, Seth." He begged, already maneuvering through the living room and weaving his way to the kitchen where he found an already brewed cup of coffee. Gratefully he poured himself a cup and took a long sip. French Roast was a blissful change from the sludge he had been drinking from the hospital cafeteria. Seth had followed him in and was waiting a response anxiously. "Ryan is still at the hospital. The doctors need him to stay a little longer, son, until they're sure that everything is okay." Sandy hated lying to his son. But if he couldn't get his mind to wrap around the concept of cancer, Sandy knew his mouth would not cooperate, either.

For a moment Seth looked unsure, but after a couple seconds passed his features softened and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay." He said slowly. "My God, I don't think I slept at all last night. I mean, between worrying about what the hell was going on with you guys at the hospital, and Marissa calling every five minutes wanting an update. Plus then I'd have to deal with her talking a mile a minute because I didn't know what to tell her, because for some reason, one of my parents when postal on me last night and sent me home without so much as a phone call. God, that girl can be a chatter box." He sighed, rubbing his forehead dramatically.

Sandy smirked. "It's annoying, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." Seth moaned. "So, what's the drill? You're refueling; gathering rations, then we return to infirmary and bust Ryan?" He asked hopefully.

Swallowing hard, Sandy shook his head. "Actually, no, son. Ryan has to stay for a little while longer." He said, watching as Seth's face fell. "I just came home to grab a shower and pack your mother and I some extra clothes."

Seth frowned. "What? How much longer?" He asked worriedly. "Ryan is okay, isn't he, Dad?" he asked, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.

"We don't know anything yet, Seth. I'm not sure how much longer he'll have to stay, but it shouldn't be for more than a day or so." Sandy tried to convince him. Honestly he had no idea how long Ryan would have to stay at the hospital, and frankly, he didn't want to think about it. A day or so sounded like a nice answer. "But I don't want to leave Ryan and your mother alone much longer, so I'm going to hop into the shower and pack a duffel bag. Can you go to the poolhouse and pack Ryan some things too?"

Sandy could see the wheels in Seth's head turning, trying to comprehend this new information. Ryan was sick, and it was definitely becoming more complicated than a cut finger. He ran hand through his unruly curls. "Um, yeah. Sure." He mumbled. "What things does he need?" Seth asked, trying to be helpful.

Already mounting the stairs, Sandy shrugged. "Sweatpants, wife beaters, whatever he's usually comfortable in. And a toothbrush, things like that." He added as an afterthought. "I want to be ready to leave in a half hour, so go on. I'll see you in a minute." With that, he disappeared.

Left standing stunned in the hallway, Seth's mind was spinning. What was going on? How could strong, independent Ryan go from his usual self one minute to staying overnight in the hospital the next? Fear churned in his stomach, but Seth forced his legs to move and he walked outside from the kitchen to the poolhouse.

Within minutes he had packed a backpack full of ratty sweats that Ryan always wore and plenty of his trademark white tanktops, along with the necessary toiletries. After he was done he found himself sitting down on Ryan's bed and gazing around the empty room longingly. It didn't feel the same without his brother there, and he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.

With the sudden urge to hear Summer's voice, Seth picked up the phone from beside the bed and dialed the number he knew by heart. Just the sound of her "hello" calmed his frayed nerves. "Hey. It's me."

"Cohen, what a surprise." Summer said teasingly. "How's Chino?"

Seth sighed. "Not so good, I guess."

"Really, what's wrong? Let me talk to him."

"Would if I could, but he's not here." Seth sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. "He's still in the hospital."

Summer hesitated in surprise. "What? Why?" She asked worriedly.

"I don't know the answer to that one, either."

"Well what do you know, Cohen?" Summer asked quickly. "This is serious, isn't it?" By the sound of her voice Seth could tell she was biting her lip in a way he usually found both endearing and sexy. Now it just made him nervous.

Seth nodded to himself. "I guess so. My Dad is a wreck, Mom hasn't left Ryan's side, and nobody seems to want to tell me anything." He stared at the ceiling. "Something is definitely wrong, Summer. I don't know what it is, but I can't shake this feeling. Something is definitely wrong." He repeated.

There was a pause on the other end. "Want me to come with you to the hospital, Cohen?" Summer asked gently.

"Yeah…yeah, I really do." He replied honestly.

"Come pick me up on your way." She said. "And Seth? Chino is going to be fine. I promise."

Seth nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you soon." With that he hung up.

"Was that Summer on the phone?" Came his father's voice from the doorway.

Jumping nearly a foot in the air, Seth glared at his Dad standing quietly at the entrance to the poolhouse watching him thoughtfully. "Dad! Don't sneak up on me like that, you just took ten years off my precious life!" Placing a hand over his chest, he waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. "It's a good thing we're going to the hospital, I just had a minor heart attack." He moaned.

Sandy ignored him. "You get everything all packed for Ryan?" He asked, pointing to the backpack beside his son on the bed.

"Yeah." Seth replied. "I've got all the necessities, including his IPod and a few CD's from yours truly that will work their healing magic." He stood and slung the bag onto his back, heading out the door.

Sandy stopped him. "One more thing. I just got a call from Kirsten, Ryan has a request." He explained.

Seth listened attentively. "Yeah? Shoot."

"Give Marissa a call." Sandy told him. "He wants to see you both."

* * *

Seth had been watching his foster brother through the glass window in the hallway for nearly three minutes, unable to look away. When he had left the night before Ryan had been unhappy, miserable maybe, at having to stay overnight in the hospital. But now as he watched him sleeping, propped up on several pillows, Ryan just looked sick. He was pale, dark circles ringed his eyes, evidence of a sleepless night. All in all, it didn't look like the Ryan he knew that punched water polo players and burned down model homes.

"What happened?" Marissa asked from beside him, voicing his thoughts. "Last night he was fine, now he looks like…" Her voice trailed off, grasping for words.

"Death warmed over." Seth muttered, still studying the boy's face. "Mom, what the hell is going on?" He asked, turning from the glass for the first time to face his mother, who was sipping from a cup of coffee on a chair against the wall.

Kirsten had stepped out of the room to greet Ryan's visitors and change into a fresh set of clothes that Sandy had brought from home. "Seth, Ryan didn't get very much sleep last night." She explained quietly. "One of the tests they did was very painful, and we were up most of the night with him. He's very tired."

Pushing her hair behind her ears, Marissa glanced at Ryan one more time. "Can we go in and see him?" She asked, unable to hide her concern.

With an apologetic smile, Kirsten shook her head. "I don't think so, honey." She said reluctantly. "Ryan needs his rest. As soon as he wakes up I'm sure he'll want to see you, but right now he needs to sleep." She told them, seeing their faces fall.

Sandy sat down beside his wife. "Kirsten, they need to see him before the doctor comes by, anyway." He reminded her gently. Then more quietly, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Come on, hon. Ryan said he wanted to do this himself. We can at least give him that."

After a moment, Kirsten reluctantly nodded and looked up at her son and his friends. "I guess a few minutes won't hurt." She said, rising and heading to the door. "But…give me a moment with him. I just want to tell him you're here." She requested, and at their nods she entered the hospital room, shutting the door behind her.

Walking up to the bed, she placed a hand on Ryan's forehead and checked for fever. Thankfully, it had lowered slightly since the morning. Gently she ran her fingers through his hair and lightly stroked his cheek. "Ryan. Sweetie, wake up." She whispered.

With a small moan, Ryan turned his head into her touch. "…Time is it?" He mumbled, confused. Without opening his eyes, he yawned and stretched as much as his small bed and sore chest would allow.

Kirsten smiled. "It's twelve thirty, sweetheart. In the afternoon." She told him. "You have some visitors, Ryan."

Licking his lips, Ryan sighed. "Yeah?" He asked.

"Uh huh. They're waiting just outside." Kirsten explained. Ryan's eyes remained shut and he seemed to want to fall back asleep, but Kirsten touched his cheek with the back of her fingers and coaxed him awake. "Open your eyes, Ryan. Look out the window."

After a moment Ryan's eyes fluttered open and two very sleepy blue eyes glanced briefly at Kirsten before looking out into the hall. When he saw Seth, Marissa, and Summer smiling back at him hesitantly, he managed a grin of his own and a small wave. "Guess it's time to face the music…" He said softly. "Right?" He asked, turning his gaze to Kirsten.

Her eyes filling with tears. Kirsten reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "Ryan, you don't have to do this yourself, honey." She whispered.

Ryan nodded. "Yes I do." He replied, keeping his voice steady and his expression firm. "You can let them in."

Taking a deep breath, Kirsten rose from the bed and kissed his forehead quickly before walking to the door. Absently, she wished she had Ryan's courage. God knows that inside, she was falling apart.

* * *

A/N: Long I know, but I had to make up for lost time. I'll leave it here and you can wait a BRIEF time before reading the next chapter. Please r/r! I hope you enjoyed it.

Vancouverite


	6. This Is Real

A/N: I'm SOOO sorry that I took forever to post this, but believe it or not, I had it finished for a long time. My mom surprised me with a trip for spring break and off I went for three weeks without a chance to get this up. But here it is now! It's sad, so break out the Kleenex. And by the way, I'm almost at a hundred reviews. This is insane. Thank you sooo much, I love you people. Enjoy!

**FADING – Chapter Six**

**Sunday Afternoon**

Ryan shifted in his bed and pulled himself upright, doing his best to cover up a wince as his chest made its protest at his movement. Making an attempt to smooth down his hair and scrub the cobwebs from his vision, Ryan faced his friends with what he hoped was a smile. "Hey, guys." He said warmly, fiddling with the button by his arm to raise up the head of the bed.

Marissa was immediately at his side and kissed him deeply, her hand cupping his face. "I've been so worried about you." She whispered in his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine, really." He assured them as Seth and Summer approached the bed. Seth looked nervous as he walked across the room, Summer's arm around his waist and a drawn, concerned expression on his face that he was trying to hide but failing miserably. Ryan did his best to make his foster brother feel at ease. "Hey, man." He said, reaching out a hand.

Seth hesitated, but after a moment, bumped knuckles with the boy in the bed and the frown lines on his face smoothed somewhat. "Dude, you sure know how to make mountains out of molehills." He chuckled, plopping down onto a corner of the mattress. "We bring you in here with a booboo to the finger and look at you now." He shook his head emphatically.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Believe me, if I could get out of here right now, I would." He said vehemently. "But…you know, with the tests and stuff, they need me to stay."

"Which is exactly why I, as your wing man, brought you the 'Ryan Atwood Hospital Survival Pack'." Seth declared joyfully as he picked up the backpack he had brought into the room with him, unzipping it and rooting around. "We've brought you the comforts of our home to you, my good friend, including your beloved tank top of choice: the wifebeater." He held up one of the white shirts proudly.

With a look of disgust, Summer shook her head. "Wifebeaters Chino? Ew!" She said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Grinning, Ryan took the shirt and looked at Seth hopefully. "Please tell me you've got sweatpants in there, too." He begged,

"Alas, Ryan, how can you even doubt me?" He asked, reaching into the bag once more and producing one pair of faded, baggy gray sweats. "I know you all too well, man."

Ryan's smile grew wider as he took the clothes from his friend. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted these." He said, pushing his blankets down and sitting up. "I've been stuck in this stupid hospital gown for two days, which, for your information is backless, and…" When he swung his legs over to the side of the bed and stood up, his vision swam and grayed. Ryan's knees buckled and he pitched forward.

"Ryan!" Marissa cried, grabbing for his arm.

Seth reacted and caught his friend around the waist, holding him upright. "Whoa, there, buddy. Take it easy, okay?" He said worriedly, waiting as he felt Ryan begin to stand on his own again. "Wait, wait a sec, Ryan. I'm gonna sit you back down for a minute, okay?" He said reassuringly as he slowly lowered his foster brother's deadweight back onto the bed.

Ryan put a hand over his eyes as he waited for the blurriness in his vision to clear, for the dizziness to fade. "I'm fine." He said hurriedly.

Scooting up beside him, Marissa put an arm around his shoulders and studied his face. "Yeah right." She muttered.

"I just stood up too fast, that's all." Ryan insisted, dropping his hand and facing three very scared and concerned friends as they all gaped back at him. "I'm fine."

Seth opened his mouth to protest when suddenly the door to the hospital room opened and Sandy flew inside, his face full of concern. "Ryan, are you okay? What happened?" He hurried to the side of the bed and tried to push Ryan back into a horizontal position. "What are you doing trying to get out of bed, kid? Lie back down, please…"

"Sandy, I'm fine." Ryan growled suddenly, pushing his foster father's hands away standing up again before anyone else could stop him. This time it took only a few seconds for the dizziness to fade. "I'm just going to get changed. I'll be right back." He insisted, grabbing his clothes and walking to the ensuite bathroom door.

Sandy followed him a few steps. "You need a hand?" He asked softly,

When he turned back around, Ryan shook his head, embarrassment and resent clearly in his eyes. "I think I can handle this on my own." He muttered back.

Once the door shut behind him, Sandy sighed, raking a hand through his shaggy hair. Hearing the silence behind him, he slowly turned around to see three stunned faces. "Well," he said quietly. "That could have gone better." He summarized, walking to the door.

"Mr. Cohen…should we leave?" Summer asked.

Seth shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere." He insisted, sitting back down on the bed as if to prove his point.

"Me neither." Marissa added.

Sandy's lips were pressed to a thin line as he glanced back at the three teenagers, and he nodded. "I think that maybe that's best." He said slowly. "No matter what Ryan thinks, he does need you, all of you. And there is something important he has to say. The sooner, the better."

Seth watched his father walk out of the room. "Dad!" He called after him, and when Sandy's head reappeared in the door way, he asked. "What does he need to tell us?"

A nearly imperceptible wave of sadness flashed over Sandy's face, and he winced. But after taking a deep breath, he shook his head, his expression grim. "We promised him. He'll tell you on his own." With that, the door was shut again and he was gone.

Seconds later the bathroom door opened and Ryan walked out, now clothed in his sweatpants and wifebeater, his expression slightly weary but also placidly calm. He looked unsure of what to say as he walked back to the bed and sat down slowly, seeing Marissa smile at him reassuringly and suddenly unable to offer one back.

Summer spoke up first. "You know, Chino, as much as I hate to admit it, you look better in this." She nodded to herself approvingly. "I mean, your butt is cute and all, but that turquoise gown was just heinous."

When Seth and Marissa laughed, Ryan managed a tiny smile, and glanced at Summer gratefully. "Right." He said, the mood sobering immediately. "Well, um…I don't mean to kick you guys out or anything but I need a moment alone with Marissa." He blurted out.

Seth looked surprised and hurt. "Are you kidding?" He asked. "Come on, Ryan. Whatever you are going to tell her you can tell me. I'm your brother, man."

"Seth, I want to tell her first, alone." Ryan begged, a lump forming in his throat. This was hard enough as it was, why did Seth have to make it worse?

"First? Uh uh. I'm staying right here, and you're going to tell all of us." Seth crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared Ryan down, his brown eyes full of shock and fear.

His eyes filling with tears which he struggled vainly to hold back, Ryan grabbed Seth's sleeve. "Seth, please." He whispered.

Seth stared back at him. "I'm not leaving this room until you tell me what's going on." He said softly, his eyes also flashing with unshed tears.

Defeated, Ryan sat back into his pillows, wiping at his eyes hurriedly and staring down at his hands. It was now or never. He knew what he wanted to say, it was just three small words that would get everything out into the open and once he had said it, it would be over. But suddenly his throat had closed, and his heart was pounding painfully in his chest. How could he tell them that he was sick. How was he supposed to say that he wasn't going to be able to be the same Ryan they knew before, the one that was tough and got into fights at fundraisers and fancy events, that took care of his girlfriend when she was in trouble or got his best friend out of sticky situations that he always seemed to get himself into? How was he supposed to tell them that everything was going to change?

He hadn't realized he had been silent for a full two minutes until Marissa began to gently stroke his sandy hair, brushing his bangs away from his face. "Ryan?" She said softly. "Are you okay?"

Ryan didn't even lift his head. "I have cancer." He said, his voice barely audible. But he knew they had heard it.

For a moment, the silence was palpable. "What?" Marissa finally asked, her voice low, her town disbelieving.

"I have cancer." Ryan repeated. "Leukemia. The doctor told me last night."

This time there was a gasp, then, after a few moments, a sob. Ryan didn't want to look up. If he looked he knew he'd find them staring at him in fear, concern, and pity, three emotions that he'd had enough of in the past twenty-four hours. But he didn't think he could afford to keep looking away.

When he did finally lift his head, he was not let down. Marissa was struggling to hold back the sobs that were shaking her frame, her hands clenching unconsciously at his bed sheets. Summer was wiping at tears that rolled down her cheeks one by one, hypnotically, moving to sit beside her best friend and offer a hug of comfort. Seth, however, was staring at Ryan, his eyes wide in complete shock.

Ryan swallowed hard, placing a hesitant hand on Marissa's shoulder. He looked up at his best friend, unable to stand his silence any longer. "Seth…"

"Cancer?" Seth choked out. "Wh…what, how? I mean, are you sure?" He stuttered, unmoving from where he stood at the side of the bed.

With a small sigh, Ryan nodded. He had known that this would be hard. But he didn't think it would hurt this much. As much as he hated to admit it, reassurance wasn't something he felt that he could give right now. What he needed was for someone else to be the one to take control and tell him that he would be fine. And though it made him uncomfortable to feel so weak, he needed those simple words badly.

Marissa sniffed, wiping at her eyes feebly. "Ryan…I…" she gasped, shaking her head, unsure of what to say. Suddenly she flung herself up from the bed and ran from the room.

"Coop!" Summer called after her. Casting Ryan one last sympathetic glace and squeezing her boyfriend's hand, Summer raced after her.

When they were alone, Ryan half wished that Seth would flee the room as well. He could feel his foster brother's eyes burning a hole into the side of his head from where he sat on the bed, head bowed, willing away the stinging of tears. As badly as Ryan knew Seth needed comfort, Ryan needed it more.

After an agonizing silence, Seth drew in a shaky breath. "Well, I must say." He said dryly. "Things were getting to be a little too happy around here anyway." He chuckled humorlessly, sinking down wearily into one of the bedside chairs.

With a tiny smile, Ryan peeked over at his friend and smirked. "Guess you're right."

Humor dying, Seth shook his head and stared at Ryan. "Leukemia?" He asked softly, disbelieving. At the other's nod, he sighed, resting his head in his hands. "So…what are they going to do? Because, obviously you're going to get better right away. There must be a game plan. What's the gist?" He asked, his tone light and conversational.

Ryan hid the smile of gratitude that crept up at Seth's unswayed positivism. "I think you should ask your parents about that one." He said, leaning back into his pillows, fingers absently running over the bandage on his chest. "I wasn't really paying attention last night. Dr. Collins is coming in later to talk about treatment, but other than that I'm a little lost."

"Well I guess it doesn't really matter, right?" Seth said hurriedly, his eyes seeking out Ryan's as he sat forward slightly in his seat, resting his elbows on the bed. "Because you're going to be fine." His voice wasn't coddling, nor was it meant as a question. What Seth said was a firm statement that he didn't even expect an answer to.

Tears pricking his eyes once more, Ryan ran a hand across his face and bobbed his head jerkily. "Right." He said softly. It didn't matter if he wasn't sure that it was true. It didn't even matter if he believed it or not. But the only way he could survive another day was to tell himself that everything would be alright.

Running a hand through his tousled curls, Seth glanced at the door. "Marissa didn't take that so well, though, huh?" He asked rhetorically.

Ryan shook his head. "About as well as I expected." He mumbled. "With everything she's been through this past year…this is the last thing she needs."

"And what about you, man?" Seth asked suddenly, the question taking Ryan by surprise. "You think you've had it easy since you got here? So what if this is hard on her. She's not the one who is sick. That would be you. And if she was the one lying in this hospital bed right now I know damned well that you wouldn't have run out of the room." He said, sitting back in his chair, a frown of anger creasing his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

After getting over his initial shock, Ryan shook his head. "Seth…"

"No, don't stick up for her, Ryan." Seth interjected quickly. After seeing the pained look on his foster brother's face, his tone softened and he sighed. "You want me to go talk to her?" He offered.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "I think that's the last thing I'd want right now." He said, shooting Seth a glare of amusement. The curly-haired boy smiled in response. "I'm just going to wait…she'll come back."

"I'll wait with you." Seth said quickly. "Besides, Summer and those rage blackouts…Marissa will be back here any minute. I'm speaking from experience here." He smirked.

Ryan reveled in the smile that came to his lips.

* * *

In the hall, Kirsten sat with her head resting on Sandy's shoulder. They watched through the window silently with sad smiles on their lips as Ryan and Seth talked quietly in the hospital room. Seth was doing most of the talking, as usual, his hands gesturing wildly as he told some story that was without a doubt meant to make Ryan laugh. Ryan watched him from the bed, his usual small smile turning up the corners of his lips as he listened to his brother speak. However hard he was trying to enjoy Seth's animated conversation, his eyes gave him away. There was no usual spark of happiness or mischievousness that usually lingered behind his dark, expressive blue orbs. In their wake was undeniable fear that Ryan was so carefully guarding and doing his best to keep hidden.

Kirsten saw it every time she looked at him.

After letting out a deep sigh, Kirsten closed her eyes. "I'm scared, Sandy." She said suddenly, feeling her husband's head turn to look at her in surprise; not at her words, but the sudden speech after both of them had been sitting in silence for ages. "I didn't think that I'd be able to admit it, but…seeing our sons like this, knowing how much we have at stake…" Her voice trailed off.

Sandy brushed a hand through her golden hair. "Shh…Kirsten, don't." He whispered softly. "Don't do this to yourself. Ryan is going to be fine, you'll see. Everything is going to work out." It was a mantra that he knew was beginning to wear thin. But Sandy would never tire from repeating it.

Kirsten wiped at her eyes. "I know everything is going to be okay…I mean, it won't, but we're going to take care of Ryan no matter what the cost. But we've just been so lucky. I feel like we have the perfect family. I guess that in the back of my mind I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop." She lifted her head off Sandy's shoulder and clasped her hands in her lap. After a long moment, she looked up at him, her blue eyes flashing with hope. "I'm not going to let anything happen to him, Sandy. I'm not letting him go."

Taking a deep breath, Sandy nodded tightly. Wrapping his arms around his wife, he pulled her to him, burying his head in her neck. "I'm not either." He whispered.

For a long time they sat intertwined in on another's arms, both silent until finally, after what seemed like years, the sound of the room door opening broke the quiet and they pulled apart, looking up in surprise.

Seth stood awkwardly in the hall, slowly pulling the door shut behind him. His posture was drooped, his head bowed, and his expression pained. Chewing on his bottom lip, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and faced his parents silently, still staring at the ground. When he finally looked up, his eyes filled with tears and his resolve crumbled. "He uh…wants to know when the doctor is coming by." He said quietly, his voice cracking.

Kirsten stood up and went to her son, instinctively wrapping her arms around him. Whatever front Seth had been able to put up in front of his friend shattered and he gave in to his mother's embrace, tears spilling from his eyes. "What's going to happen, mom?" He whispered fearfully.

Not knowing what to say, Kirsten just hugged him tight and soothed a hand across his back.

From around the corner of the hall Marissa appeared with Summer at her side, a renewed look of calm on her face, their hands gripping one another's tightly, exchanging strength. When they took in the scene in front of them, both stopped short. Seth stood crying in his mother's arms, his usual quirky, humorous demure nowhere to be seen. Marissa felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. The new, positive outlook Summer had helped her regain in the few minutes they had spent together in the ladies room disappeared, and something started to whisper in the back of her mind.

This was real.

* * *

A/N: This one was actually quite hard to write. I rewrote a couple parts so many times because it either felt too sucky or not believable enough. I hope everyone liked it…it's quite sad, I know. Well, I promise to have another chapter up quicker than the last one, that's for sure! The plot should slowly pick up now. Please review, you know it fuels me! Cheers!

Vancouverite


	7. Alone

A/N: Sorry if this update wasn't as prompt as people would have liked it. You guys have been amazing as always with the reviews, keep it up. There is a lot of medical jargon in this chapter, so try to stay awake. I'm just trying to keep this believable and help everyone really understand everything about Ryan's disease. Happy reading.

**FADING – Chapter Seven**

**Sunday Evening**

"What's a five letter word for erroneous?" Sandy asked lazily, tapping his pencil rhythmically against the crossword puzzle in his hand.

After a slight pause, Ryan said, "False" and resumed staring at the wall.

Glancing up at the boy curiously, Sandy penciled in the word lightly, shaking his head in disbelief when it fit. "Crap." He muttered under his breath. "You're too good at this."

"Who knew that a guy with so few words to say would be a regular thesaurus?" Seth said playfully.

Shooting his foster brother an infamous glare, his head cocked to one side, Ryan couldn't help but crack a smile. Everyone was trying so hard to ease the mood, the least he could do was play along. Even if the reason they were waiting was for the daunting conversation with Dr. Collins.

Kirsten looked at her son disapprovingly. "Seth." She said, her tone warning. Seth just looked at her innocently and smiled. "You know, believe it or not, commentary is not necessary for every single sentence spoken. Some of those you can let go." She said, her voice hinting amusement.

Seth looked wounded. "Mom, do you know me at all?" He asked, bewildered. "Where would the fun in that be, I ask you?" Leaning back in his seat, Seth put his feet up on the mattress, stretching out.

"Shoes off the bed, Seth." Kirsten chided, pushing her son's legs off the blankets. "They're dirty. You're going to mess up the linens."

With a roll of his eyes, Seth relented. "Because they're so nice to begin with. And why do you suddenly care about keeping them clean?" He asked cheekily. "It's not like you're the one who does the laundry at home." He pointed out.

Kirsten's mouth dropped open and she was about to defend herself when she heard Sandy laugh. Shooting him a glare, Sandy tried to keep his chuckling under control. "Oh come on, honey." He smirked. "You've got to admit that was funny."

"I don't see the humor in that." Kirsten retorted, glancing at Ryan, who also was attempting to hide a smile. "Well I'm so glad that everyone finds it so hilarious that I'm not that great a homemaker." She said sarcastically.

That started Sandy into another fit of laughter. Seth gave his mother a sympathetic look. "Mom, you and 'homemaker' don't exactly work together in a sentence." He explained helpfully, patting her hand.

Ryan sighed, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. Even though they weren't seated around the Cohen's breakfast table fighting over bagels, this felt normal. The afternoon had ticked by precariously slow until Marissa and Summer had gone home. Ryan had felt as if both he and his girlfriend had been walking around one another on eggshells; the conversation had remained on safe grounds, avoiding any topic that touched illness or the hospital. They chatted lightly about summer vacation and planned trips to Las Vegas and surfing at the beach that Ryan knew would never happen. It wasn't long before Marissa claimed she had to be home for dinner and she awkwardly left.

"…Ryan?"

Realizing that he had zoned out and Sandy was trying to get his attention, Ryan looked up. "Yes?" He replied quickly. The three Cohens were all staring at him now with renewed looks of concern, and Ryan had to wonder how long Sandy had been calling his name.

Sandy's face softened. "You okay, kid?" He asked gently.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. Just a bit tired, I guess." The boy reassured them. Clearing his throat and trying to redirect their worry somewhere else, Ryan managed a small smile. "Can't finish that puzzle, can you?"

Though his eyes narrowed, Sandy decided not to pry any further. "Six down. A four letter word for exuberance." He scratched his head with the end of the pencil in his hand.

"Zeal." Ryan said instantly, cockily folding his hands behind his head when Sandy, Kirsten, and Seth all shot him similar looks of surprise. Ryan shrugged. "That was an easy one."

The sound of someone clearing their throat at the door caused four heads to turn. "I have to say, I'm impressed." Dr. Collins said as he entered the room. His appearance had changed drastically from the previous night as he looked run down and very haggard. His once pristine white coat was now wrinkled, his glasses crookedly framing tired, dark-circled eyes on an exhausted face. "You're looking at a Scrabble champion and even I didn't get that one as quickly as you did." He smiled warmly as he entered the room, shaking hands with Sandy and Kirsten, greeting Ryan with a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"We find that Ryan is full of surprises." Seth said playfully as he stood up to introduce himself to the doctor. "Unfortunately I take your presence as my cue to leave. I'll be in the hall with my ear pressed eagerly against the door."

Dr. Collins chuckled as the other boy left, sitting down on the end of the bed. "Well, you'll have to forgive me for my appearance; I'm coming off one of the longest shifts of my life." He said sarcastically, blinking owlishly at the clipboard at the foot of Ryan's bed. "You're my last patient of the day, thank God. So let's finish off this day on a high note, shall we? We'll discuss treatment and get the proverbial recovery ball rolling. The sooner we start treating you the sooner you can go home. How does that sound?" He directed the last part of his question at Ryan.

Ryan didn't know how to answer that question. What was he expected to say? Should he be thrilled that the sooner he was started on some painstakingly long road to recovery he'd find himself back at the Cohen's house where he'd no doubt be treated like just as much of a patient as he was here, except by people he cared about and respected? He knew that if he opened his mouth he was at risk of saying something equally cutting and sarcastic, so Ryan just forced a smile and nodded.

The doctor returned the smile. "Good. Well, since I dropped this huge bomb on you last night we didn't really get much of a chance to discuss the technicalities of your disease, Ryan. Short of going over it with a fine toothed comb, in acute leukemia the abnormal blood cells are blasts that remain very immature and can't carry out their normal functions, so they are considered cancerous. The number of blasts increases rapidly, and the disease becomes worse quickly. In your case they are developing very alarmingly, Ryan, so it's important that we take action as quickly as we can.

"Now, this form of leukemia originates mainly in the lymph nodes, which is why it's called Lymphocytic. But in some cases the blood carries it throughout the body and that's how it spreads. In your case most of the cancerous cells have already spread to your spinal chord and around your brain, which explains why you've been complaining of headaches. Before anyone is alarmed, it's not as bad as it sounds. In fact, it's almost desired to be this way because it allows us to treat with chemotherapy in a much more direct, aggressive manner."

Ryan stiffened and physically felt Kirsten and Sandy beside him grow rigid as well. Kirsten reached for his hand and started stroking it gently even while her blue eyes blazed at the doctor. "Chemotherapy?" she asked softly.

Dr. Collins nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so, Mrs. Cohen." He replied, watching as their faces fell, their obvious disappointment rising to the surface. "Given that Ryan is young and healthy we think that chemo will be his best bet at achieving a quick remission. The chemotherapy kills the leukemia cells by stopping them from reproducing. Unfortunately, chemotherapy also kills normal cells, so as I'm sure you know, there are many serious side effects such as…"

"We're well aware of the effects of chemo, doctor." Kirsten interrupted briskly, her eye contact no longer holding Dr. Collins gaze, but instead fixed on Ryan's bowed head, her fingers rhythmically running through Ryan's sandy hair. "My mother died of cancer a few years ago." She said softly, the thought bringing back too many painful memories.

The doctor winced. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Cohen." He said sympathetically. "But like I said, Ryan is a young, strong, otherwise healthy teenager and chemotherapy is his best bet at beating this thing. It's going to be a long and difficult road, I won't lie to you. And the chemo is just the first stage. We'll introduce radiation and possibly stem cell therapy as we go, depending on how quickly the cancer begins to die. But the chemo is very necessary if we want to get Ryan into remission."

Before Kirsten could protest again, Ryan swallowed thickly and looked at the doctor, fighting hard to sound brave. "How soon?"

"As soon as possible…tomorrow, if I get my way." Dr. Collins replied. "Because we've noticed such an aggressive progression of leukemia in your blood, Ryan, we want to be just that much more aggressive with the chemo. We'll start out with fairly intense sessions once or twice a week, and that could taper off to once a month if it works well."

Sandy spoke up for the first time since Dr. Collins had arrived. His tone was all business. "You said before that the location of cancerous cells in Ryan's blood allows you to treat it more directly." He recalled, listening intently. "How, exactly?" He rested his arms on the bed, a small reminder to his foster son that he was close by.

"Well Mr. Cohen, in Ryan's case the chemo will be injected directly into spaces between his spinal cord. We will be doing this as well as administering it by vein. There's just a better chance at targeting it directly if we include the intrathecal injections with the regular treatment." Dr. Collins explained.

Kirsten still didn't look convinced. It was obvious that this was not the news she had wanted to hear. "Are there any serious risks with doing it this way?" She asked nervously.

"To be honest, every patient reacts differently." The doctor answered honestly. "Because the treatment will be so intense it's likely that Ryan will suffer from all the regular side affects much more severely, so it's important that he be constantly monitored the days following treatment. He's going to have a seriously lowered resistance to infection. Essentially, his body is going to drastically change. It might be a good idea to have him admitted into a clinic at an outpatient basis…"

"No." Kirsten answered instantly, an arm wrapped securely around Ryan's shoulders. "No. Thank you, but we'll be taking care of Ryan at home. We're perfectly capable." She said, her voice cold.

Dr. Collins nodded. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't. It's just that…you look like two hard-working individuals and Ryan is going to need to be under careful watch a lot of the time."

Sandy's voice broke in. "And that's exactly what we'll do." He said sternly. "This boy is our son, Dr. Collins. We'll do anything necessary to get him better."

Ryan sighed. "Could you please not talk about me like I'm not here?" He asked quietly. Kirsten looked at him sadly and nodded her apology, rubbing his arm soothingly. Ryan turned his attention back to the doctor. "Um…am I going to loose my hair?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The pitying look that Dr. Collins gave him was enough to bring tears to his eyes. "I'm not sure, Ryan. For some people it does, others it doesn't." He said gently. "Healthy cells that divide often are the ones that often get targeted by the chemo, like cells in hair roots. It just depends on how strong your follicles are." He explained.

Ryan tried a thin smile and looked at Sandy. "Its times like this that your hair has its perks." He joked quietly.

Sandy laughed. "I knew one day someone would get jealous." He said, ruffling Ryan's hair.

Dr. Collins smiled. "Well, if no one has any more questions I'm going to call it a day." He said, standing up and looking at Ryan's chart one last time. "You're looking much better, Ryan. Your temperature is closer to normal, I see. That's very good. Now we just need you rested for tomorrow."

His mood sobering immediately, Ryan's stomach sunk. "Right." He said softly. "When can I go home?" He asked hopefully.

"Well, if all goes well after your first treatment I might let you recover at home. If that's alright with your parents, of course." He added immediately. "Your condition will be serious when we discharge you, Ryan. It might be a good idea to stay an extra day so that you can be treated if we run into any complications." He said seriously.

Ryan looked at Sandy and Kirsten hopefully, but they only nodded. "No, we'd like to take Ryan home as soon as possible." Kirsten said quickly. She looked at her foster son and his eyes shined with gratitude so much that her heart broke. The thought that he doubted whether she'd want to take care of him made her ache.

With a nod and a smile, Dr. Collins turned to leave. "I figured you'd say that." He said, straightening his lab coat and waving. "Goodnight. Get some rest, Ryan. You're going to need it."

Once they were alone, Kirsten turned to Ryan and brushed back his bangs, searching his eyes. "Are you okay, honey?" She asked just as Seth walked into the room.

Ryan nodded. "I guess." He answered, trying hard to put Kirsten at ease. Ever since the doctor had first walked into the room she had been hovering even more than usual, her blue eyes studying him fiercely. "That was a lot to take in."

"You're telling me." Seth groaned, flopping down onto a chair. "Do you know how hard it is to listen through a vent? And in case anyone didn't notice, the man mumbles when he talks. My eavesdropping skills were put to the test, man." Seth whined.

"So you caught all that?" Sandy asked his son.

Seth nodded somewhat grimly. "Most of it." He said. "So their going the chemo direction, right?" He asked quietly.

Kirsten nodded. Glancing at Ryan out of the corner of her eye, tried to sound positive. "Well, I was skeptical at first but everything Dr. Collins said sounds like its for the best. You'll be better in no time." She smiled, kissing Ryan on the cheek.

Suddenly desperate to change the subject, Ryan asked what time it was. After hearing that it was after eight, he frowned. "You guys haven't eaten dinner yet." He realized aloud.

"Well no, but…" Kirsten began.

"Go down to the cafeteria. Or better yet, go home. I'll be fine, there's no point in just watching me sleep." Ryan said quickly. He hated that for two days he had been under Sandy and Kirsten's constant watch, dragging them away from work. Kirsten still hadn't been home since he'd been admitted.

Sandy shook his head. "We're not going home, Ryan." He assured the boy. "When are you going to get it? If you're here, we're here. That's it."

Ryan swallowed hard. "Please." He said softly. "I can't stand you worrying about me any longer. Please, go home. Have dinner, get some rest." He begged, looking at the Cohen's hopefully. "I can't keep doing this to you. Please." He repeated.

Seth shrugged. "I am kinda hungry…" He relented.

With a small sigh, Kirsten nodded her okay. "We'll go get some dinner downstairs." She said reluctantly, collecting her purse and rising from the edge of the bed. "Can we bring you anything?" She asked, smiling warmly.

Ryan shook his head and Seth answered for him. "Are you kidding? He already had a feast of stone cold, petrified chicken breast and green Jell-O that looked like alien brains." He smirked, grinning at his foster brother. "What more can a guy want?"

Shooting Seth a look, Ryan shook his head when Kirsten asked again. "No. I'm fine." He insisted. "Go have dinner. Please."

Nodding reluctantly, Kirsten kissed his forehead as they retreated from the room. "We'll see you in a while." She promised.

Sandy squeezed his arm. "We'll be back, kid."

After saying goodbye to Seth and watching the Cohen's leave the room, Ryan sank back into his pillows with a heavy sigh. This wasn't getting any easier. And as he suspected, this was just the beginning. Starting tomorrow was what surely would turn out to be the most difficult journey of his life, and even though the Cohens at times felt smothering, as he sat in his bed in the surrounding silence, Ryan suddenly felt as if he were doing it alone.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. He hadn't even started yet and already he was getting tired; tired of being scared, helpless, and so alone. And the end seemed so desperately far away.

* * *

Outside in the hall, Sandy stood still as stone, his eyes locked on the figure in the bed. The image of his son sitting by himself burned its image in his brain as the boy scrubbed his face, hiding evidence of tears and struggling vainly to regain his composure even as he sat alone. Even when he thought that no one was watching, Ryan Atwood refused to let himself cry.

Sandy's heart felt as if it were being crushed against his ribs. The pain that swelled in his chest made him breathless, desperate to rush back into the room and do whatever he could to take away even a tiny portion of Ryan's pain, to do anything in his power to make his son well.

"Sandy?" His wife called, halfway down the hall. Sandy looked and saw her standing there watching him, Seth beside her. They were waiting for him to join them. "You coming?"

Waving her away, Sandy shook his head. "I'll meet you down there." He replied. After a slight hesitation, Kirsten nodded and she and Seth disappeared around the corner.

Sandy turned back to the glass. He knew that this was something he would not be able to fix. This was something that he was helpless against. And the thought was killing him. He could not lose Ryan.

He would not lose his son.

* * *

A/N: Ahhh! This was sad! I hope I held people's attention at the doctor lingo part, I hope it wasn't TOO boring. I just wanted to really explain what we're up against here. Now that's done, it shouldn't happen again. Please review, I'll post faster that way. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	8. Promises

A/N: Here we go again! I'm all geared up for some serious Cohen comfort now that Ryan has to start the pains of chemotherapy. Everyone is dealing in their own way, some better than others…who won't be able to cope? Or is the question more like who _will _be able to cope? You'll just have to wait and see…as for my reviewers, I worship you. The more detail you go into about what you like or whatever just…makes me beam and sit down to write. You're all so great, but Beachtree, you especially. You so rock. AHH I LUV YOU! You make me burst with happiness…it's a disease really. Oh dear, I'm rambling. I've become Seth. Oh crap, not again…

**FADING – Chapter Eight**

**Monday Morning**

The wall had cracks in it. Long, thin, wiry ones that started at the baseboards and wound their way up to the wall. They were so small and hard to see with the naked eye that Ryan was sure he had to be the first one to ever spot them. Probably from water damage, he concluded, seeing the tell-tale signs of the slightly cracked paint. Inevitably that wall would have to be knocked down, he realized, but at the moment telling the nursing staff of the hospital about a costly wall replacement project seemed like the least intelligent thing to do.

From his position on his side, knees curled up to his chest as the doctor poked and prodded at his back, Ryan locked his eyes onto that stark white, boring-as-watching-grass-grow wall. Anything had to be better than waiting for the sting of a needle as it jabbed its way in between his vertebrae.

Kirsten reached for his hand and squeezed. "Just don't think about it, Ryan." She said soothingly. She got off her chair and knelt on the ground so that her head was aligned with his, her eyes boring into his, full of concern. "Concentrate on something else."

Ryan wanted to tell her that as exciting as diagnosing cracks in a wall had turned out to be, it wasn't working out to be that great of a distraction. He found himself tensing up, his hands clenching into fists unconsciously, his teeth ground together hard, anticipating the first stab of a needle.

There was a sigh from behind him. "Ryan, I told you. I'm not going to be able to see where I have to put the needle if your muscles are tensed." It was the doctor's voice. Dr… something. All Ryan could remember was that it was the name of a beer. "Just relax, son. It'll be over soon."

"Easy for you to say…" Ryan grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" the doctor asked suspiciously.

Struggling not to laugh, Kirsten jumped in. "Ryan said 'he's having a bad _day_', Dr. Sleeman." Then she gave Ryan a stern look, but a laugh twinkled in her eyes. Sometimes she found it impossible to be mad a Ryan Atwood. It had to be his eyes; they melted her.

Nodding to himself Ryan rolled his eyes. Right. He was being injected with a giant needle and the guy holding it looked like Dougie Howser and was named after a crappy beer. Just his luck.

"Okay. I'm going to do the first one, Ryan. Take a deep breath." The doctor announced, cold, latex-covered fingers touching the top of Ryan's spine. Doing as instructed, Ryan squeezed Kirsten's hand and shut his eyes. "Now let it out slowly." The doctor said next.

As he exhaled Ryan immediately felt the burn and sting of a needle enter his back sending pain flaring through his shoulders and neck. Instantly his hand gripped Kirsten's tighter as the breath left him in a rush and he gasped in pain. "It's okay, sweetie. It'll be over soon." Kirsten whispered in his ear, her free hand running it's slender fingers through his hair. "You're doing wonderfully, Ryan. It's almost over."

Icy stabs of pain poured across his bare back like pins and needles and he barely felt the needle being removed. The medicine left him numb, the pain receding to a dull ache as his muscles relaxed and he slumped on the bed, panting in a cold sweat.

Kirsten started talking to him soothingly, her words fading in and out as Ryan's heartbeat began to hammer in his ears. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Ryan's heavy eyelids closed and he breathed deeply, willing himself to calm down. After all, he did have two more of these to sit through. Two more…

Suddenly the feeling of ice cold water being wiped gently across his face brought him out of his doze with a gasp, his arms and legs flailing in surprise.

"Calm down, sweetheart. You're okay." It was Kirsten's voice, but she sounded different…worried, even scared. "Sorry to wake you like that. I thought it would make you feel better." She apologized.

Ryan struggled to open his eyes and found that he was no longer lying on his side, and Dr. Coors Light or whatever his name was no longer in the room. Kirsten sat in her usual place at his bedside, a washcloth in her hand. "Wh…what happened?" Ryan asked wearily, shivering slightly. The room felt cold and his body felt numb. "Aren't they gonna do the other two shots?"

Her brows knit together worriedly, but Kirsten smiled. "Honey, you zoned out after the first one. Dr. Sleeman finished the other two injections and started your chemo through the IV before he left." She said gently, gesturing to his hand. When Ryan looked down, sure enough he had a needle taped into the back of his hand and a drip connected to a bag containing a cocktail of drugs. "You were pretty out of it…that first one was really bad, huh?" She soothed, her hand stroking his forearm.

Ryan tried to remember how the first injection had felt, and was suddenly overwhelmed with an overload of sensations; a numbing pain seared across his back and neck, jabbing into the base of his skull. His mouth was so dry that it hurt, his tongue and gums stinging with pain. A chill ran through him so deep that he felt his bones rattle when he shivered, pain shooting through his entire body. Every muscle and joint seemed to scream in protest as he lay immobile, exhaustion weighing his limbs down to the bed.

Unable to bite back a whimper of pain, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. But Kirsten was at his side in a heartbeat, sitting on the edge of the bed as she wove her fingers gently through his sandy blonde hair, her feather soft touch the only sensation that felt good.

"Oh, sweetie." She whispered sadly, rocking him as gently as she could. The pain etched deeply in his face told her enough; the doctors had warned her about the intense sensitivity most patients have after the spinal injections. Kirsten just hadn't thought that it would be this bad. "Just take deep breaths, Ryan. Everything will be okay. Deep breaths." Her hand reached blindly for the call button and she asked the nurse to get Dr. Collins.

Ryan swallowed hard, the feeling of discomfort so intense that he shuddered, the room tilting slightly as he struggled to take in slow, deep breaths like Kirsten told him. But black spots were beginning to cloud over his vision.

The door swung open and a more familiar face appeared at the bed. Dr. Collins placed a firm hand on Ryan's shoulder and locked onto his gaze, holding it with his own serious, concerned eyes. "Ryan, you're hyperventilating. Breath slowly in…and out…come on, slow it down." He repeated like a mantra, and Ryan felt himself begin to comply. "That's it. In….out. Good."

The panic that had welled in his chest began to clear, and the spots disappeared from his vision. Feeling somewhat more relaxed, Ryan sighed and went limp in Kirsten's arms. "I'm…fine now." He said exhaustedly as Kirsten pushed sweat-dampened locks out of his eyes.

"I guess that was a sensory overload for a minute, huh?" Dr. Collins said gently, writing a few things down on his clipboard. "I'm prescribing you a painkiller for the chemo. It'll likely do a number on your back, and the headaches you've been having will probably be more frequent and intense. All we can do is give you something to help manage the pain. I'll give your parents a more detail itinerary of your meds when you leave."

Ryan looked up hopefully. "I can go home?" He asked with as much excitement as he could muster. As the seconds ticked by his eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier, the pain in his body fading into the background as a cold numbness wrapped around his body like a heavy blanket.

Dr. Collins smiled. "Do you want to?"

Ryan nodded vigorously.

"Well, we'll finish your first round of chemo, Ryan. Then depending on how you are immediately afterwards, I'll bring up some release forms." Ryan smiled happily, his eyes drifting closed as he lay back in Kirsten's arms. She was so warm…

Kirsten smiled at the doctor. "Thank you." She said softly, her fingers carding through Ryan's hair as he fell asleep. She frowned as she felt him shivering against her. Placing a hand on his cheek, her frown deepened. "He's cold."

Reaching for one of Ryan's hands to see for himself, Dr. Collins nodded and scribbled more notes down. "It's another common side affect, Mrs. Cohen. It's a real shock to the system when the drugs come in and start immediately killing cells. We just have to make sure to keep him warm and comfortable while he recovers after each session."

"And how long can that take?" Kirsten asked in dismay. She wished Sandy was with her. She needed him to be beside her, telling her that everything would be okay. Kirsten had sent him and Seth home late last night and they still hadn't returned. "I don't really remember…what it was like…my mother." She stammered. "I imagine this will be worse?" She asked sadly.

"It's anyone's guess, Mrs. Cohen. Ryan's a fighter, so he shouldn't stay all the way down for longer than a week between sessions…but then again, I'm going to have him back within the week, so…I won't lie, it's going to be rough for the first couple of months." He explained, his eyes warm and full of remorse. Removing his glasses, he looked at Kirsten sympathetically. "I know you've said that you're against it, but you really should consider getting some help with Ryan's care. He's going to be very sick, Kirsten. You need to understand that."

As Kirsten absorbed his words, Ryan moaned in his sleep and curled up against her, unconsciously seeking warmth. As she wrapped her arms around him and stared down at his peaceful face, Kirsten knew: There was no way she would allow a stranger to take care of her son. It would take an army to keep her from Ryan's side every step of the way through this illness. She wasn't going anywhere. Neither was he.

Looking up, Kirsten shook her head with confidence. "No thank you." She said firmly. "Ryan belongs at home with his family. We're going to take care of him."

Although he still looked reluctant, Dr. Collins smiled at her and respect shined clearly in his eyes. "You've got balls, Mrs. Cohen. I'll give you that." He chuckled as he stood up to leave the room. "I'll come by in about…oh, half an hour to disconnect Ryan's IV. It's going to really knock him out, so just let him sleep. He's going to be feeling like hell when he wakes up." With that he said his goodbye and left the room.

Silence filled the room as Kirsten listened to Ryan's quiet breathing. When she looked down at has face, her throat grew tight and tears stung her eyes. His features were slack and peaceful but pain lined the corners of his eyes, his mouth frowning slightly. He was very pale, and even though it had already been explained to her that it was normal for severe anemia to cause a lack of color in the face, her stomach still sunk with worry. He looked sick. But then she was reminded of the fact that he was sick; very sick.

Asleep he looked even younger than his sixteen years. He really was just a child. He was her child, and he had cancer. She was his mother; she was supposed to protect him from everything. Somehow, she had failed him.

As tears trailed down her cheeks, Kirsten hugged him closer and lowered her head to kiss his crown. "I'm going to take care of you." She whispered her promise in his ear. "I swear to you. You're going to get better, sweetheart. Nothing less is acceptable and I know you'd never want to disappoint me. So don't start now. I'm going to get you well. I love you so much, Ryan. I won't lose you, not ever."

And the silence that met her was deafening.

* * *

Kirsten was roused from a light doze she hadn't remembered taking when a voice at the door startled her awake. "Knock, knock." Seth said as he walked slowly into the room, his eyes studying his sleeping friend. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Seth shook his head. "Man…he looks beat."

Untangling her arms from around Ryan's shoulders as gently as she could, Kirsten stretched and yawned. "He just finished his first round of chemo…it hit him pretty hard."

Seth watched as his mother straightened Ryan's blankets. There was the unmistakable evidence of tears in her red, puffy eyes. Kirsten Cohen looked drained, both physically and emotionally. Seth sat down beside her. "You okay?" He asked gently.

"Yeah." Kirsten said after a moment. Momentarily stopping to fix her hair and wipe at any smudges of makeup, Kirsten sighed. "I mean, I'm not, but…I will be. Where's your dad?"

At that Seth rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I got up this morning and there was a note in the kitchen saying he had to go into the office." He said, slightly distracted as he found a stray comic book at the end of the bed that he had brought Ryan from home the night before and began flipping through it. "Some Newpsie no doubt got a clog in their hot tub or someone's hedges are just not up to code. You know…the usual scandals. He said he just _had_ to go in. It must have been terribly important." He said sarcastically.

A frown creased Kirsten's face as she listened to her son speak. Why would Sandy go into work on the day that his son was receiving his first treatment of chemotherapy? They had both agreed to take some time off for a while, at the very least until things had more or less calmed down with the hospital drama. Kirsten sighed. "What is going on with your father?" She asked without meaning to vocalize her comment.

"Who knows? He's been on edge for the last few days. Maybe he misplaced his eyebrow comb or something else traumatizing." He said, disinterested. But after a few moments of silence he looked up from the comic and noticed his mother staring off into space, her expression worried. He reached for her hand. "You know, I'm sure it's nothing. Just…" He trailed off and gestured to Ryan, fast asleep in the hospital bed.

Kirsten nodded. He didn't need to explain. Smiling at her son, Kirsten gently touched his hair, her need to mother someone unable to resist. "When did you get to be so smart?"

Seth grimaced. "Mother, my Jew fro." He whined petulantly.

A small, raspy voice spoke up from the bed. "Don't bother, Kirsten." Ryan croaked with a ghost of a smile. "It's indestructible…I've tried."

Kirsten and Seth smiled at his response, covering both sides of the bed as they looked down at him. "Mother, I do believe Ryan just made a joke. He really must be sick." Seth said, pretending to be aghast. "Welcome back to the land of the living, buddy."

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" Kirsten asked as she caressed his cheek.

Ryan cleared his throat. "Weird. My mouth really hurts. Could I have some water?" He asked, and watched as Seth poured him a glass from a pitcher beside the bed. Drinking eagerly from the straw, he allowed his foster brother to take the cup from him after a few minutes, his energy drained from the small task. He closed his eyes. "How long have I been asleep? Is it…over?"

Kirsten nodded. "You made it through the first round, honey. And you did so well." She smoothed back his hair. "It's two in the afternoon. Dr. Collins will come by soon and see if we can get that release signed." She told him happily.

Seth grinned broadly. "You hear that, Ry? You're gonna be sprung." He patted his brother's shoulder. "You're looking a little rough around the edges, but otherwise no worse for wear. I'd say this isn't so bad after all." He smiled at his mom and Ryan.

"Yeah." Ryan nodded weakly, his eyes still closed. "I'm just really…really tired. But otherwise it's not…so bad…" His voice began to fade as sleep crept up on him again.

"Sweet dreams, buddy." Seth said softly, smiling at how quickly Ryan had dozed off again.

Kirsten watched her two sons with a sad smile. She didn't have the heart to tell either one of them that this was just the beginning. She wasn't strong enough to tell them that Ryan was currently on such a high amount of painkillers so that the stabbing ache in his back would be numbed the first time he woke up. She didn't explain how Dr. Collins had said that Ryan wouldn't feel the full effects of the chemo until a couple hours later, when he would be plagued with dizziness, nausea, exhaustion, muscle soreness, fever, and God knows what else.

She wished Sandy was there.

* * *

Walking through the front doors of his house, Sandy put down his briefcase and marveled at the silence. Looking around the empty living room, down the hall to the silent kitchen, and everywhere in between his heart sank in his chest. This didn't feel like home.

With a sigh he trudged up the stairs to the master bedroom, loosening his tie. On the way down the hall he peeked into Seth's room, even though he knew the boy wouldn't be there. The Range Rover hadn't been in the drive way when he had arrived. He knew that his son had gone to the hospital to be with Ryan and Kirsten, where he should be.

Where he wanted to be. Badly.

After taking a long, hot shower and changing into a more comfortable outfit, Sandy slowly walked through the house to the back doors of the kitchen. He took in the late afternoon Californian sun as it beaded down on the infinity pool, the ripples in the water dancing across the windows of the pool house.

Ryan's pool house.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sandy closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the sun shine down on his face. He didn't want to look at the pool house. It would just remind him of the fact that Ryan wasn't inside; that Ryan wouldn't come out with his usual small smile and polite morning greeting, as if he still was nothing more than a guest in their house. They wouldn't gather in the kitchen and eat breakfast together, he wouldn't smile happily as he listened to Ryan and Seth's morning banter. Because Ryan was in the hospital.

Ryan was sick with cancer.

Willing the ache in his chest to go away, Sandy exhaled deeply and forced his feet to move as he propelled himself towards the French doors of the pool house. He didn't know how long he stood outside, his hand resting on the cool silver of the handle. But finally he took a deep breath and turned the knob, walking inside.

It looked the way it always did, and yet the room felt entirely different. Ryan's bed was impeccably made, The desk in the corner clean and bare. Walking to the shelves against the wall, Sandy looked at the neat rows of Ryan's clothes, folded perfectly and separated into categories. Everything was the same as it always was. But at the same time, something heavy and very sad hung in the air around the room that left Sandy cold.

Reminding himself of the task he had decided to take on, Sandy began meticulously taking articles of clothing and piling them onto the bed. He and Kirsten had decided that Ryan would be better off in the guest room in the main house where he would be close by, where they could keep an eye on him. Sandy had taken it upon himself to have Ryan's things already in the guest room when he got home, so that the boy wouldn't have a chance to disagree.

Once Sandy had laid out a moderate selection of clothes, he found himself wandering around the room. Even after living with the Cohens for nearly a year now, Ryan still had only the bare necessities in his room, no personal items in plain sight, nothing that made it evident that it was in fact Ryan's room.

A single photo in a picture frame on the bedside table caught his eye. Walking over and sitting down on the bed, Sandy picked up the photo. It was the picture taken of them from Chrismukkah, the one that had been put on their Christmas card. They were all seated around the fireplace, arms around one another and smiling. They looked happy. They looked like a family.

Feeling his throat begin to tighten, Sandy brushed his fingertips over Ryan's smiling face. It was a rare smile, one that Sandy took pride in making appear every once in a while. It wasn't an easy task, but one of the most rewarding. What that kid had been through, Sandy couldn't begin to imagine. Ryan had seen things in his life that no person deserved to go through, let alone a child. Once they had officially made Ryan a part of the family, Sandy had promised himself that no son of his would ever have to be alone again, to be unhappy, or afraid. He would keep him safe.

Tears blurring his vision, Sandy let the photo fall to his lap. Covering his face with his arm, he took several deep breaths and struggled to regain his composure.

Maybe this was a promise he wouldn't be able to keep.

And if that were the case, Sandy didn't know how he could live with himself.

* * *

A/N: I don't know what to say here. This was emotional, even for me writing it. I hope everyone liked it, and give me lots of feedback as you usually do so perfectly well. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	9. I Need You

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but this is a long chapter. I've been really busy with school as exam time is coming up, as I'm sure many of you know, but this story will not go abandoned. It is my life right now, lol. That's extreme. Anyway, thanks for the amazing reviews, as usual. Beachtree, my new best friend (for reals, you're awesome), you're so great as always. And so, I give you chapter nine, an emotional rollercoaster that will take you through everyone's emotional trails (except Mr. Atwood…he gets his own chapter later) as they begin to come to terms with reality. Get the tissues, and review when you're done. Thanks a bunch!

**FADING - Chapter Nine**

**Monday Afternoon**

Quite literally, Ryan was dead on his feet. Seth didn't know if it were physically possible for a person to be moved around and manipulated as if they were a doll all the while remaining asleep, but somehow his foster brother made it look easy.

Somehow they had gotten the lethargic teenager into a sitting position, and by some miracle he remained that way. Kirsten was struggling to draw his limp arms through the sleeves of his grey sweatshirt while Seth took the liberty of tugging on a pair of runners onto his best friend's sock-covered feet.

"Ryan, man, if you were awake right now I think you would have a conniption." Seth grunted as he pulled on first the right sneaker, then the left. That accomplished he knelt down and started tying the laces. "We're dressing you. That has to be, like, against some Chino law or something…the Chino Embassy for Angry Youths is going to come and arrest us…we'll get thrown into some dark cell where a bunch of other silent, brooding teenagers will attack us and…"

Kirsten glared at her son. "Seth. He's out cold. Save it."

Seth put on his best wounded look. "Just trying to lighten the mood." He mumbled, getting up from the floor just as a nurse entered the room pushing a wheelchair. "Well, Ry. Your chariot awaits to escort you to freedom. You gonna wake up for this momentous occasion, bro?" He asked gently, placing a gentle hand on his brother's arm.

Stroking his hair, Kirsten touched Ryan's face. "Ryan? Wake up sweetie." She said into his ear. "It's time to go home."

Ryan's head lolled, his chin dipping down to his chest. "Mmm…" He mumbled, barely aware.

Just as Kirsten sighed and struggled to rouse him again, Seth shook his head. "Don't worry about it, mom. I've got him." Seth stood, draping one of Ryan's arms around his neck and wrapping his own arm around his best friend's waist. Carefully, Seth half-carried the other boy the small distance to the waiting wheelchair. "It really is a shame you're not awake for this, dude. You'd be freaking." Slowly and gently, Seth lowered Ryan down into the chair.

When Seth straightened he looked up and saw his mother watching him, her eyes soft and thoughtful, but her expression sad. Uncomfortable, Seth stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What?" He asked nervously.

Kirsten cleared her throat. "Nothing." She said quickly, but the look remained. Picking up Ryan's duffel bag, she slung it over her shoulder and moved to stand behind the wheelchair. "Let's get him home."

Seth side-stepped her and took hold of the handle bars. "I've got him, mom." He said, pushing Ryan out of the room and into the hall. After a moment, Kirsten followed. As they walked down the hall towards the elevator, Seth lowered his head to Ryan's level. "Bet you've never been so happy to leave a place, hey buddy? Me neither."

Finally, Ryan was coming home. Seth didn't think he could have handled one more day in a house that quiet, that lonely. It had felt eerily similar to the pre-Ryan days, the years Seth had spent alone, without a best friend, a brother. Not to mention the strange sense of unease and anxiety that had plagued him every time he worried about Ryan, struggling to convince himself that the boy would be okay. He had to be.

He was Ryan, after all.

All everyone needed was for Ryan to come home. Then everything would be better. Ryan wouldn't look so sick, and surely they'd just pump him full of miracle drugs and soon he would be cured. That way his mom wouldn't try so hard to smile whenever Ryan was awake, and not have to fight back tears when he fell asleep. Maybe his dad would stop being so uncharacteristically distant, and that shell-shocked look of fear that contorted his usually confidant face whenever he thought no one was looking would go away. Once Ryan was home, everything would go back to normal.

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Seth pushed the lobby button. They didn't look back.

* * *

When they pulled into the familiar driveway of the Cohen residence, Seth was surprised to see his father standing outside waiting for them. His expression changed instantly from sad, despondent, and tired, to overly cheerful and animated when he saw the Rover drive up towards him.

Seth watched as Kirsten took the key out of the ignition, checked Ryan one more time from where he sat reclined in the passenger seat beside her, and got out of the car. Sandy appeared beside her and forced a smile. "Hey, honey. I ordered Thai, got all your favorites, don't worry." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How'd it go?"

Climbing out of the backseat, Seth slowly walked around to the passenger door, watching his mother's reaction. Kirsten regarded her husband quizzically for a moment, confusion evident on her face. Seth felt just as confused. One minute his father was moody and unusually quiet, the next acting as if everything was peachy keen.

"How was 'work', Sandy?" Seth heard Kirsten ask somewhat icily as he pulled open the passenger door, keeping one ear open for his father's response. Inside the car Ryan was still fast asleep, oblivious to the tension around him.

Seth mused that maybe it was better his foster brother wasn't awake. He knew that it would kill Ryan to know that Sandy and Kirsten were arguing about "taking care of him", so to speak. Or at least they would be arguing later, behind closed doors. Seth knew his parents well enough to make that assumption safely. Sandy's behavior at this time was not something Kirsten would likely let lie.

Somehow, Sandy avoided the question. "Fine." He said briskly. Then almost reluctantly – or was it just hesitance? "How's Ryan?"

"Exhausted." Kirsten replied, deciding to get to the bottom of what was bothering her husband later. "He's been asleep since well before we left the hospital. The procedure was really hard on him, though. When he woke up the first time he…"

"Well, now that he's home he'll be feeling better in no time." Sandy jumped in. "His bag in the back?" he asked, walking around to the rear of the vehicle

Seth heard the frustration in his mother's voice. "Sandy…"

Having heard enough, Seth bent down to get a better look at his foster brother, and a worried frown creased his face. Ryan was pale, even paler than before, and was breathing restlessly in his sleep. Even unconscious he looked uncomfortable. Seth's excitement about getting home was immediately quelled.

"Come on, bro. Let's get you inside." Seth said softly, undoing his brother's seatbelt and trying to gently pull the other boy out of the car.

Ryan stirred slightly and moaned at the movement, struggling to lift his head.

Seth grunted as he manhandled the deadweight in his arms, trying to get Ryan onto his feet. "I know. This isn't so great for me either, trust me." Seth groaned, wondering when and if he was going to get any help from the parentals. "Uhh…don't worry about us. I'm secretly the world's strongest man. I have no problem whatsoever lifting someone more than my own body weight. No biggie." He said sarcastically.

Sandy appeared at Ryan's other side and looped an arm around his waist. "Sorry." He mumbled, handing off the duffel bag to Kirsten as they began half-walking, half-carrying Ryan up the steps of the house and into the front door.

Half-way through the living room Ryan whimpered softly, his eyes fluttering open. "Where…am I?" He moaned, still half asleep. He blinked a couple of times, struggling to take in his surroundings as a wave of panic washed across his face.

His breathing accelerated. "Kirsten?" He called out suddenly, his voice gravitating towards fear.

Kirsten hurried to his side as Seth and Sandy slowed, holding Ryan close as he struggled to stand on his own, his knees buckling weakly. "It's okay, Ryan. You're home, sweetie." She said soothingly, rubbing his arm. "We're just trying to get you upstairs to the guest room so you can lie down. How does that sound?"

Ryan tried to nod. "'Kay." He mumbled, trying to pick up his feet as they neared the stairs.

"Just relax, Ry. We've got you." Seth said softly, tightening his grip around Ryan's waist. "We're almost there."

When they finally had reached the guest room at the end of the hall, Ryan's face was bathed with sweat and he was breathing heavily, exhausted. Seth and Sandy eased Ryan down onto the bed, watching as the boy squeezed his eyes shut, swaying dizzily and clutching at his stomach.

Kirsten sat beside him, her expression worried. "Ryan, honey, lie down." She told him, pulling back the blankets and arranging pillows.

Ryan didn't seem to hear her. "The room is…spinning." He said softly. He brought a furiously shaking hand to his temple. "My head…"

"Seth, go down stairs and bring up the paper bag I put on the kitchen counter with Ryan's meds in it." Kirsten instructed, her eyes never leaving Ryan's face as she stroked back his hair, her brows knit together in concern. "And bring up a glass of water, too."

Nodding, Seth hurried out of the room, but not before he caught sight of his father, standing nervously to the side. Sandy's expression was that same, paralyzed fear as he stared at Ryan's hunched over figure on the bed, his hands wringing helplessly as a battle raged behind his dark blue eyes. It was obvious to Seth that his father didn't know what to do with himself.

Seth touched Sandy's shoulder, bringing him out of his trance. "Dad…" Seth said softly, pulling his father's arm and turned him so that their backs were to Kirsten and Ryan.

Sandy looked at Seth with eyes full of fear, worry, and remorse, and for a moment Seth didn't know what to say. But he swallowed over the lump that had formed in his throat and looked at Ryan over his father's shoulder. "Dad, I'm scared, too." Seth told him quietly, his voice nearly a whisper. "But if you don't go over there and be his dad right now, you're going to hate yourself." Seth pulled his gaze off of his sick brother long enough to lock eyes with his father briefly; two similar pairs of eyes exchanging fears, and strengths.

"But…" Sandy stumbled over words, shaking his head. Then he sighed helplessly. "I don't know how to help him…I can't make him better, I…w-what would I even say?"

"Just…tell him the truth." Seth said, simply, turning to leave the room. At his father's questioning look, Seth sighed. "Tell him, you know…that everything is going to be okay, because we're going to take care of him." He said quietly, studying Sandy's face.

Sandy swallowed hard and some of the haze cleared from his eyes. He said nothing as he nodded tightly, and turned back towards the bed.

"Seth." Kirsten's voice broke through the boy's reverie, and he looked up to find her looking at him sternly. "Medicine. Kitchen. Now." She said briskly, turning back to her foster son.

Seth nodded. "Right." With that he spun on his heel and disappeared from the room, heading down the hall and to the stairs at a jog. When he reached the kitchen he scooped up the paper bag from the counter, filled a tumbler with water and headed back up to the second floor as quickly as he could without spilling. Thoughts raced through his mind a mile a minute as he retraced his steps back to the guestroom. Worries and fears for his brother mingled with an underlying layer of shock at the severity of Ryan's condition; Seth hadn't had the slightest idea that it would be this bad.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Ryan was supposed to come home and get better. Maybe curl up on the couch and play some X Box, at best. Perhaps a couple days rest, like with the flu. But this…this wasn't right.

When he reached the doorway, Seth took a deep breath and steeled himself before entering. He could do this, though. He could be the strong one.

Seth shrugged. For a while, at least.

But when he rounded the corner and came face to face with the scene in front of him Seth felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. Ryan, exhausted and barely able to lift his head, was heaving violently into the garbage can from the bathroom that Kirsten held under his chin. Sandy sat on the bed behind Ryan, one arm looped around Ryan's chest, the other on his forehead, literally holding the boy up. Kirsten was rubbing Ryan's back with her free hand, a constant string of reassurances the only words offered from either of the parents.

For several long moments, Seth had no words. He stood staring, unblinking, wanting to look away but unable to. Fear was the only thing keeping him from running from the room, from asking how he could help, from screaming. Then he remembered the bag of pills in his hand and took a small step forward. "I…" He began, but trailed off.

Kirsten noticed him standing there, and her hand shot out. "Give me the bag, Seth." She instructed quickly.

As if on autopilot, Seth's legs compelled him forward and he walked towards her, extended his arm, and allowed her to snatch the bag from his hand. Unsure of what else to do, Seth placed the glass of water on the bedside table. His eyes wandered back to Ryan, and he flinched. "What…what can I do?" He asked nervously.

"You can wait out in the hall, please." Kirsten said suddenly as she smoothed Ryan's bangs off his forehead.

Seth stood rooted in spot. He wasn't sure whether he should be grateful to be told to leave the room, or offended. "What?" He stammered, confused. "No, I…"

Sandy looked up. "Seth. You heard your mother." He snapped, his attention barely wavering from Ryan, who continued to heave into the trash can in front of him. "Go on. Outside."

After a moment Seth nodded to himself shakily and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Out in the hall he leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before he had to close his eyes against the blur of tears.

How could this be happening?

* * *

The click of the door opening startled Seth out of a daydream and he quickly looked up from his seat on the floor to find Kirsten exit the guest room. "How is he?" Seth asked immediately.

When Kirsten looked down at her son, as if surprised to see him still waiting outside the room nearly an hour later, she gave a brief, brave smile. "He's just about asleep." She murmured, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Finally."

Seth nodded. "That's good." From where he sat leaning against the wall, Seth looked up at his mother and studied her face; she looked tired, and he reminded himself that she hadn't had a night at home since before Ryan had been admitted to the hospital. But she also had such an intense amount of worry in her eyes that made Seth want to break down and cry right then and there. She was so scared for Ryan. It did little to put Seth at ease. He cleared his throat. "Dad still in there?"

"Yeah. Mr. Positivism himself." She said softly, concerns and confusion clouding her blue eyes. "I wish he would talk to me…I've never seen him like this. Sky high one minute and rock bottom the next." She looked down at he hands.

"He's just scared, mom."

"We all are, Seth." Kirsten said quickly. "But this is not…problems at work, or arguments with my dad. This is Ryan, and he's sick. If we don't talk about this at some point, we're all going to lose it. And I'm not about to let that happen."

Seth stared at his feet. "That's great, mom." He said unenthusiastically. "But it's not that simple. At least not for everyone." Seth knew how his dad was feeling; it was the exact same gut-wrenching fear that was currently gnawing at his insides. But some rational part of Seth's brain was refusing to let that fear take over. He had to be strong

If not for himself then for Ryan. It was the least he could do for his brother.

He continued to feel his mother's eyes on him. "Which brings me to you…" Kirsten said, sliding down the wall to sit on her heels, her eyes leveled with his. "How are you dealing with all this?" She asked, placing a warm hand on his knee.

With a shrug, Seth looked longingly back at the door. "I'm fine, I guess." He said slowly. "Just worried about him."

Kirsten swallowed hard and bobbed her head in agreement. "Me too." She whispered.

Seth sighed. "He was sick for a long time." Seth stated, remembering how long he had heard the unmistakable sounds of someone being sick as he sat outside the room playing Death Cab songs in his head to take his mind off of what had to be going on inside. "I've never thrown up that much in my life. If there was a vomiting Olympics, I think he would have won, hands down, kicked everyone else's ass."

"His reaction to the chemo was pretty violent. He couldn't even keep down the Compazine prescribed for the nausea…this isn't going to be easy on anyone, but especially Ryan. He's going to get very sick, Seth." Kirsten said slowly, her voice tight. Then her face softened. "I'm sorry I kicked you out. But…you didn't need to see that."

Seth snorted. "You think I'm that squeamish? I can handle an emergency, mom." He retorted, but then sighed. "And besides. Gonna have to get used to it, right?" He asked sadly.

Kirsten shook her head. "It's not just that, Seth..."

"Then what?"

"Think about Ryan for a minute." Kirsten said simply. "The only reason he didn't kick me and Sandy out was because he couldn't sit up well enough to aim for the garbage can. He's a very private person and…as hard as it's going to be, we have to try to remember that he doesn't like feeling helpless anymore than we do."

Seth nodded, thinking reasonably. "I got it. He needs his space." Then the corners of his mouth quirked up into a ghost of a smile. "But the guy's got to learn one way or another that in the Cohen house you don't get too much of that. Especially not in a crisis. We're known for our pushiness." He quirked.

With a laugh, Kirsten smiled at his son. "I guess we'll all need to adjust." She agreed. Then she stood, smoothing wrinkles from her pants. "I'm going to go get Ryan some Ginger Ale. See if that will help."

As Seth watched her leave, he remained sitting on the ground. He understood that Ryan would need privacy, that much was obvious. The guy still wasn't known for stringing more than a few sentences together when he could get away with it. Perhaps the Atwoods were not the social butterflies that the Cohens were. Seth could respect that, but over the long months since Ryan had come to live with them he and his parents had taken it upon themselves to crack Ryan's shell, and slowly, it was working.

And at a time like this, with the latest trauma in the Cohen family, Seth knew that even though it would not be easy, they couldn't sit back and let Ryan revert back to how quiet and locked up he used to be.

Seth smiled. Ryan would just have to learn that the Cohens faced a crisis head on, and whether he liked it or not, they were there the whole way through. Even if Seth had to take it upon himself, he would make sure Ryan got the picture. Because Ryan needed to know that he had to get better, and he had the whole family behind him. Anything else wasn't an option.

Because Seth couldn't imagine a single day without his brother.

He needed him.

* * *

Marissa sat alone in her room hugging her Care Bear to her tightly as she lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts and images raced through her mind in flashes, sending her emotions on a rollercoaster.

Her and Ryan happy, smiling, laughing, kissing

Ryan ghostly pale and sick in a hospital bed.

That wasn't her Ryan. Her Ryan was tough, and brave. He fought for her, kept her safe. He was her protector.

He completed her.

A sob made its way passed her lips as tears filled her eyes and tracked down her cheeks. The wrecking ball that had become her life had finally stopped swinging, and now her boyfriend was sick. Not just her boyfriend. Her escape. Her knight in shining armor.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Marissa took several calming breaths and swallowed over the lump in her throat. Rolling over on her bed, she looked under the mattress for a cardboard box that she hadn't reached for in quite a while, but knew would still be there. Pulling it out she quickly found a half-full bottle of vodka and held it firmly in her hands, hastily undoing the cap and taking a long drink.

The bitter taste burned her throat and made her eyes water, but after several gulps the numb that warmed her body and mind helped to fill the emptiness and ache in her heart.

"Ryan." She whispered, his face dancing across her closed eyelids. "I need you."

* * *

Sandy tossed and turned in bed for the billionth time that night, staring at the shadows that danced across the wall. He could hear Kirsten's gentle breathing beside him, signaling that she was fast asleep. They had been up past midnight with Ryan, who had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep after hours of throwing up even though nothing remained in his stomach longer than a few minutes.

Rolling onto his back with a sigh, Sandy stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't get Ryan's face out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the image the boy the same way he had looked the whole night: his skin deathly pale, dark circles ringing his eyes as sweat soaked his face and curled the hair around his ears and forehead. His usually dark blue eyes were overly bright and full of pain.

Nothing seemed to calm him. He writhed constantly from the pain in his back and squeezed his eyes tightly shut against a headache that had to be mind-numbing. He shivered violently even with three blankets covering him to his chin. Nothing eased the tremors that ran through his body with every throb of his muscles or roll of his stomach. The only thing that seemed to soothe him in the slightest was Kirsten's gentle fingers running through his sandy blonde hair and her comforting hand rubbing soft circles on his back. After several minutes he would finally doze off, but come awake with a start with every shudder of pain or dizziness. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity he had been able to keep down a painkiller and sleeping pill long enough to fall asleep.

Sandy pushed the comforter aside and sat up in bed, careful not to creak the mattress and wake up Kirsten. He knew that he wouldn't get any rest tonight.

Walking quietly to the bathroom he quickly found his bathrobe and slipped it on, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him softly. Standing out in the dimly lit hall, he heaved a sigh and scrubbed his unshaven face with the heel of his hand.

What was he doing? Sandy didn't even know anymore. Ever since they had found out that Ryan had cancer his world had been sent spinning. Nothing seemed to make sense.

Sandy walked down the hall and stopped outside of Seth's room. Pushing the door open gently he walked in and peered around the corner, watching his son's sleeping form curled up in a jungle of twisted blankets.

At least Seth had things under control, he thought to himself. A sixteen-year-old had to tell him today to get his act together long enough to be the parent for a few hours. Sandy didn't know what had been going through his head when he had been standing at the back of the room, watching as Kirsten took over and did her best to comfort Ryan when he first woke up. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.

Sandy left the room and walked back out into the hall, looking longingly at the room at the end, the door ajar. After a moment's hesitation, he walked slowly towards the guestroom, his feet compelling him forward. When he reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside. Ryan's sleeping face was bathed in moonlight from the window in the corner. The room was silent.

Sandy was supposed to be the parent. He had taken Ryan into his home, made him his son, and promised him that his life would change. He had promised to protect him. And yet now there was the chance that they could lose him. But there was no way Sandy would even accept that as a possibility.

It wasn't a possibility. Ryan was going to be fine. He had to be.

Over the past couple days Sandy had been on an emotional rollercoaster; one minute he felt convinced that he had to be the strong, positive one, the adult who rationalized and saw the bright side of the situation. The one who told his kids and wife that everything was going to be A-okay. But the next minute reality would hit home hard and Sandy would feel utterly powerless, and wanted nothing more that to flee the room and distance himself from everyone. Because this time he didn't have any answers. Because maybe this time things weren't going to be okay.

Without realizing it Sandy found himself at the bedside, staring down at Ryan's finally peaceful face. Feeling his emotions rise to the surface, Sandy swallowed hard, reaching down to gently stroke the boy's hair. Ryan flinched and sighed softly in his sleep. After several long moments of just watching, silently, Sandy sank down into the chair pulled up to the head of the bed, and took his foster son's hand, holding it gently.

Sandy took a deep breath. "Ryan…kid, I'm sorry I haven't been there for you." He whispered, watching as Ryan slept on, oblivious to his words. "You know I'm pretty handy when I've got a problem on my hands, but…when it comes to my family, things are not okay. I don't really handle that part too well. And you're a Cohen, kiddo. You're my son…you're a very important part of my family. And I'm just…terrified of losing one of my kids.

"But I can promise you now, Ryan, that I'm not going anywhere. I know it hasn't been very clear up until now, but I'm here for you. I'm going to get you through this." Sandy's voice cracked and his eyes burned with unshed tears. As his defenses crumbled, his thumb gently stroked the back of Ryan's hand.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks unnoticed. "I'm so sorry, kid. But you're going to get better. I need you, Ryan. You're my son, and I need you. This family needs you." He trailed off as he choked back a sob. "Please…"

Hunching over the bed, Sandy held Ryan's hand in both of his and laid his forehead on the mattress. Silently, he cried. He cried for Ryan, for his family, and for himself. And although he hadn't done it since he was a kid, Sandy prayed with all his heart that his son would get better.

* * *

A/N: I haven't got much to say…just review plz. This was looooong and hard to write. My blood, sweat, and tears went into it….okay, so I'm a tad dramatic. So what. Anyhoo, I've said enough. I hope you enjoyed it. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	10. Pity

AN: Apology time! Sorry for the loooong update. I've been super busy with school and work and such…this won't happen again. I'm just going to say, I love this chapter. I really like how it turned out and hopefully you will feel the same. Thanks to my friendly readers, you guys continue to be amazing. I just want to say to anyone who hopes for a quick resolution, you need not look here. This story is going to be a looong one. I have lots of plot left to unravel, it has many turns yet to take. So sit back and enjoy the ride.

**FADING – Chapter Ten**

**Tuesday**

There was a clicking noise. It sounded kind of like a typewriter, but was definitely something else. The clacking was vibrating in his head, combining forces with a headache that throbbed behind his eyes. Pulling himself out of unconsciousness was like trying to throw off a heavy, wet blanket, and an overwhelming combination of senses assaulted him from every angle; pain stabbing at his body like knives, dizziness and foggy confusion sending his mind spiraling out of control.

Suddenly the world tilted as firm, but gentle hands grabbed him and rolled Ryan onto his side, and he threw up. Waves of nausea swept over him one after the other, relentless for what seemed like hours before he was again moved, a gentle touch under his neck and another under his arm as he was laid back down.

Ryan's ears were buzzing, like the static from the broken TV in the living room back in Chino. Was that were he was? But that clicking was back full force, too. And someone was talking, but he could barely make out the words. "…Better, kid? Just breathe for a few minutes, Ryan. It'll pass." The voice was saying soothingly. It was a man's voice. But definitely not Trey, and certainly not his dad. So no, not Chino.

Thank God.

"Do you want some water, Ryan? It might make you feel better." The voice suggested, and Ryan wanted to open his eyes and end the suspense as to who it was. But conscious thoughts eluded him, and the energy for even that small task seemed impossible. "I know you haven't been able to keep anything down, but…Ryan? Ryan, what's wrong?"

Finally having cracked his eyes open, Ryan glanced around the room. It wasn't familiar. He didn't know where he was.

What was going on? Where was he and why didn't he have the strength to grasp at the shards and fragments of memories that fogged his brain with hazy, confusing images that didn't make any sense.

He tried to move, but he hurt. Everything hurt. Dizziness made the room spin and another wave of nausea threatened send him over the edge. He moaned softly, shutting his eyes and swallowing hard. He would not get sick again.

Instantly there was movement from the side of the bed, and he felt a cool, rough hand touch his forehead. "Take it easy, kid." The voice said soothingly. "You're okay."

Only one person called Ryan 'kid' now. Cracking his eyes open, Ryan turned his head slightly and blinked in confusion. "Sandy?" he asked, his voice rough and scratchy. His throat hurt.

But there was Sandy, looking disheveled as ever, leaning over him. His eyes were wide and so full of concern as he studied Ryan's face. "Yeah, it's me. Looks like you made it through your first night." He smiled, squeezing Ryan's hand encouragingly, and Ryan hadn't realized he had been holding it. It was warm and stiff, as though he had been like that forever.

Then everything clicked into place: cancer, the hospital, chemotherapy, arriving back at the Cohen's house.

He was home.

Just as Ryan began to wonder if the clicking sound would ever go away, a shudder ran through him and he shivered violently, realizing for the first time that the noise was his own teeth chattering. Sandy picked up a blanket that had been draped around his own shoulders and placed it over his foster son gently. "I'm sorry you're so cold, kid." He said, sounding helpless.

Ryan tried to shrug. "S'okay." He whispered weakly, then he glanced around the room again. "Guest room?" He asked.

The look Sandy gave him was strange. "Yep." Ryan fought the urge to ask about the night before. He didn't want to know. He had hazy memories, bits and pieces that didn't fit together. He closed his eyes.

Constant cold that sank deep down into his bones.

Mind-numbing pain in his head, neck, and back.

Heaving constantly even though nothing stayed in his stomach.

Sandy's whispered reassurances.

Kirsten's warm arms around him, her fingers sweeping through his hair.

A nightmare that wouldn't end.

Ryan came back to himself as Sandy pulled him forward again, holding a towel under his chin. Nausea rolled over him yet again, and he heaved, but he had nothing left. His throat burned and pain stabbed at his insides. But dizziness washed over him again, and he couldn't stop.

"Ryan, easy, easy." Sandy murmured into his ear. His voice was strong. Confident. Ryan tried to focus on it. "I know it's hard, but just take it easy. Try to breathe."

He tried. But it didn't work. Ryan felt his back muscles giving out and his neck suddenly refused to support his head.

Voices faded into echoes, and he felt as if he were being submerged under water. "….Ryan…. on, kiddo, look at me…" Ryan felt the bed dip and a strong arm encircled his shoulders, another cupped his neck, holding his head up.

He heaved again, and Sandy's arms remained. His voice returned, stronger, coaching him. "You've got to stop, Ryan. You've got to breathe. Take a deep breath, okay kid? Breathe." Ryan did.

"Again." Sandy instructed

After long moments of just breathing, Ryan felt the nausea finally subside, and he sighed gratefully, closing his eyes in exhaustion. Sandy gently helped him lie back down, adjusting his blankets and pillows. "Thanks." Ryan managed to utter breathlessly.

He heard Sandy sigh. "Nothing to thank me for, kid." He said softly as Ryan felt the heavy blanket of unconsciousness settle over him again. Only this time it wasn't cold and wet; instead it was warm and soft, enveloping him like a hug, beckoning him to follow. Sandy's hand reached for his own again, and something gently touched his forehead. "Sleep, Ryan."

So he did.

* * *

Soft fingers fluttered through his hair with a feather-like touch, and the voice of an angel whispered his name. "Ryan…Ryan…" the voice called softly, cutting through his sleep-hazed mind. "Ryan…wake up, sweetie."

Cracking his eyes open, the image of his angel slowly took shape; warm light silhouetted her as she hovered over the bed, a golden halo of hair surrounding a smiling face and twinkling blue eyes. "There you are, sleepyhead." She said softly, her smile widening. "How are you feeling?"

Ryan blinked, hypnotized by her face glowing above him. He felt safe. "'Kay." He croaked.

The angel frowned. "Let me get you some water. Or better, I have some ginger ale." Then she moved, and the light left her. Ryan looked around in surprise. The light was coming from the hallway, flooding in from the partially opened door. Kirsten moved in front of him holding a glass with a straw. "Here, let's sit you up."

Ryan blushed, blaming his hallucinations on the chemo. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Ryan felt himself begin to shake as the now familiar pain in his back and neck made itself known, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Here, man. Let me help you." A second voice said and two arms encircled him gently, carefully lifting him up and placing him against a stack of pillows. Cracking open an eye revealed Seth standing beside the bed, Kirsten now standing in the background as she handed her son the glass of ginger ale. "Mom says you're thirsty. You thirsty?" He asked, bringing the straw to Ryan's lips.

Tentatively, Ryan took a sip. The cool, sweet liquid brought relief to his painfully sore mouth, and he eagerly drank more, despite warnings from Kirsten that he slow down. "Thanks." He said when he was done.

"No prob." Seth replied, placing the glass back on the bedside table. "So, you've had a nice nap, dude. Phone's been ringing off the hook for you all day. Word spreads fast in this fantastic town, wouldn't you know it. People want to come visit left, right, and center. But mom made me turn them all away, at least until tomorrow." Seth sighed, exasperated. "Personally, I think that decision was for the best. I mean, Seth-Ryan summer time has to start at some point, too. I mean, I've got new Legion comics that you haven't even seen. Oh, and I rented that video game I was telling you about, the new Star Wars one? Now, I haven't played yet 'cause I'm waiting for you, but it hasn't been easy. Don't get me started on that…"

Kirsten jumped in. "Seth?" She interrupted with a hand on his shoulder. "You'll have plenty of time to catch up later. Let's not forget the reason why we so rudely came in here to wake up poor Ryan from his sleep." Kirsten smiled at him, smoothing back his hair.

Seth nodded, grinning in realization. "Right. The soup. Ryan my man, I know you probably aren't all that famished, but Rosa made her famous recipe that will without a doubt make you feel better." He admonished. "I'm always hungry for it, no matter how sick I am. Works like a charm."

Ryan smiled weakly. "Great." He replied, trying his best to sound enthusiastic and not disgusted. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew he should be hungry. The last time he remembered eating something was…in the hospital. But as long ago as that was, nausea still settled uneasily in the pit of his stomach. He shivered. "Do I have to eat in here?" he asked, suddenly desperate to get out of bed.

"Not if you feel up to travel. A detour downstairs might be just what the doctor ordered." Seth said, patting his brother's shoulder. "I'll get you a sweatshirt, buddy." Seth suggested, and moved to open and rummage through the drawers of the dresser against the opposite wall.

Giving him an encouraging smile, Kirsten sat on the edge of the bed. "I know you probably don't feel up to it, honey." She said softly. "But you haven't eaten anything in a long time. It's after six…we need to get something in you. Who knows, it might make you feel better." She shrugged.

Seth returned with a grey hooded sweatshirt and held it up with a grin. "So, what do you say, man?" He asked cheerfully. "Up for a little field trip into the living room?"

* * *

When he finally reached the couch, Ryan flopped down onto the soft cushions with a grateful sigh. The walk from the upstairs guestroom had taken just about every last ounce of energy he had, not to mention that his back was screaming in protest to even the minimal exertion.

Kirsten looked at him and concern shone in her eyes. Ryan tried to remember the last time that look hadn't been there, and couldn't. "I'll get your meds, Ryan." She said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Seth hesitated before sitting down beside his best friend. "Need anything?" He asked helpfully.

Ryan shook his head.

"That's cool." Seth said, dropping down heavily onto the seat beside him. "Just ask if you do…I'm your friendly household butler at your service." He mock-saluted, sitting back as they lapsed into silence.

Glancing briefly at the other boy, Ryan instantly picked up on Seth's discomfort. The other boy's mouth opened and closed every few seconds futilely, as if he planned on saying something and then instantly changed his mind. Ryan cleared his throat. "So…where's your dad?" he asked conversationally.

"Oh…asleep." Seth replied casually. "Yeah, he was, uh, working really hard today…figured he'd get some office time in at home since the 'rents are taking a few days off…"

"He was up all night with me, wasn't he?" Ryan asked wearily, staring at his hands folded in his lap. He had suspected as much, remembering when he first woke up in the morning to find Sandy at his side, wearing a bathrobe and looking as if he hadn't slept in days.

Seth didn't know what to say. Ryan could feel his foster brother's eyes staring holes into the side of his head, that sympathetic look mingled with worry. "Well…you know, they were worried and all. I, uh, I'm not sure really."

Ryan forced a tight smile. "It's okay, Seth." He mumbled under his breath. "If you see him before I do, tell him I'm sorry for me, will you?" he asked leaning back against the cushions and willing the pain in his back and the slowly building headache to go far, far away.

"Ryan, it's not your fault." Seth said suddenly, his voice surprised.

Turning his head slightly, Ryan looked at his brother. "Whose is it then?" He muttered. He felt a sudden frustration building at the way Seth was looking at him; that sad, pitying look, and the soft, concerned voice. But Seth didn't deserve his anger. Ryan sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"Ryan…you were sick. You _are_ sick." Seth began, unsure of what more to say. Ryan didn't look at him as he spoke. He knew that if he did he was going to loose it and yell at his best friend, making a huge mistake. That or punch something. Either option seemed likely right then. "It's not your fault, it's nobody's _fault_. It happened…"

With a jerky shake of his head, Ryan shut his eyes. "Shut up, Seth." He whispered. His head hurt. Everything hurt. He felt sick. He needed the silence. He didn't need to hear one more soft, soothing reassurance. They didn't help, they didn't change anything. They made him feel like some poor, sick person.

Like some cancer patient.

Seth closed his mouth and looked back at Ryan silently for a long time, but Ryan said nothing more, and didn't open his eyes. For several long moments they sat there until Kirsten returned from the kitchen carrying a tray. She must have noticed the tension between her two sons because she paused, frowning.

But after a moment she walked towards them and placed the tray in front of Ryan, smiling gently. "Here we go." She transferred a handful of pills to his palm and handed him a glass of water. "You can't have the painkillers on an empty stomach…those are the small white ones. So always have something to eat with them. They're in the kitchen…Seth knows where."

Ryan nodded and quickly swallowed all the capsules one by one before he dared to start eating the soup. Just the smell was turning his stomach, but he knew that he had to at least try it. Kirsten was watching him like a hawk.

So slowly, he lifted the spoon and dipped it into the hot liquid, and brought it to his lips. For the first time he noticed how furiously his hand shook; most of the soup ended up sloshing off back into the bowl. With a lot of effort, he managed to get most of it under control as he finally brought the spoon to his lips. As he swallowed, he looked up to find Kirsten and Seth staring at him. Embarrassed, they quickly looked away and attempted to strike up a conversation.

Ryan listened absently as he took slow, steady spoonfuls, concentrating intently on keeping his stomach under control. But halfway between Seth nagging about the house being devoid of cereal and Kirsten telling him to go to the store and buy some for himself, Ryan dropped his spoon with a clatter and pushed the tray off his lap, sprinting down the hall to the bathroom.

He thought he had kicked the door shut behind him, but Kirsten appeared moments later and sat down beside him, a gentle hand rubbing circles on his back, her voice reassuring him soothingly. After an eternity, Ryan finally was able to lift his head from the toilet as he slumped against the porcelain bowl, panting and sweating in exhaustion.

Kirsten stood and filled a tumbler with water, wetting a washcloth and turning back to sit beside him. Gently she helped him take a few sips before she set the glass aside and carefully bathed his pale face with the cloth. "There…that feel better, honey?" She asked gently, pushing back errant locks of his sandy blonde hair.

All he could do was nod.

Pressing her lips to his forehead, Kirsten sat with him until he felt strong enough for her to pull him to his feet. By that time his head was pounding, his back was screaming in pain, and his legs felt like Jell-O as he allowed Kirsten to help him up, wrapping an arm around his waist as they left the bathroom and went back into the living room.

That's where Ryan found Seth cleaning up the overturned bowl of soup from the carpet.

Ryan immediately let go of Kirsten. "Seth, don't." He said, walking towards the other boy on shaky legs. "I'll clean it." He took the rag from his brother's hand and wiped vainly at the stain on the rug.

"Ryan…I can do it, man." Seth said, sounding surprised as he tried to take the dishcloth back.

"No." Ryan insisted, snatching it away, not looking up from the task at hand. "I should do it…I want to do it."

Seth sighed. "Ryan…" he protested.

Ryan whirled around and glared at his foster brother angrily. "God dammit, Seth, I made the mess, I'll clean it up." He snapped, his teeth clenched tightly together. He saw the stunned look in Seth's eyes, and immediately turned his attention back to the floor. "I can do it." He mumbled under his breath. From the corner of his eye he saw Seth look at Kirsten for help, but she just shook her head. After a moment, Seth stepped back.

For several seconds he crouched there, feeling their eyes on his back. Suddenly the blood rushed to his head and started pounding in his ears, the room spinning slightly, dizzyingly. Sitting back on his heels, Ryan rubbed his temples, willing the stabbing pain in his head to go away.

He felt a gentle hand on his back. "Ryan…" Kirsten began softly. "You're not well. Go back to bed, we can take care of this. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." He muttered, keeping his eyes closed. Ryan sighed. "None of this is _nothing._" He let the cloth fall to the floor and put a hand back against the couch to steady himself.

"Ryan." Kirsten whispered, her hand still stroking his back. "We'll take care of it, sweetie." She repeated.

Ryan wanted to protest again. He wanted wipe the looks of concern off their faces and just make everything go back to normal. But another wave of dizziness forced him to rise, pushing himself into a standing position, his hands steadied on his thighs. Halfway upright a crippling pain hit his spine and he let out a whimper, biting on his lip to hold back a cry of pain; of frustration.

Seth instantly was at his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gripping his arm, helping him stand. But as soon as Ryan found his strength, he pulled out of his friend's embrace and staggered away. "I'm fine." He growled, walking away as quickly as he could.

He felt their pitying eyes follow him down the hall and up the stairs. Pity that made him want to lash out, and put a fist through the wall. Pity that made him want crawl into his bed, hide his head under a pillow and never have to face anyone again. Pity that made him crave the way things used to be.

* * *

Ryan couldn't sleep. Between the unrelenting pain in his body, the cold despite the several blankets stacked on top of him, and the guilt over the way he had reacted towards Seth and Kirsten, he couldn't get his exhausted body to relent to rest. For several hours he tossed and turned, wincing and gritting his teeth against the ache that wouldn't go away.

A couple of times Kirsten had come in to check on him and each time he had pretended to be asleep. She just sat by the bed, sighing softly and stroking his hair, an action that he thought he would be tired of. In truth, he didn't think he ever would be, no matter how frustrated he got from all the hovering the Cohens did around him. Her touch was gentle and soothing, a touch he couldn't remember feeling in all his life. It made him feel safe, like even though his world was crashing down around him, that simple touch made things bearable even just for the little while that Kirsten did it. And it was enough.

A creak on the floor by the doorway alerted Ryan that someone was coming in. Closing his eyes, he waited to hear Kirsten's gentle footfalls. But this time the slow steady steps told him that it was not his foster mother.

A solitary figure sat on the end of the bed. Before Ryan had another moment to wonder, Seth's voice began speaking very softly. "I'm sorry about before." He began slowly. "Sometimes…sometimes I don't know what to say to make things okay. So really, through most of this, I'm just flying by the seat of my pants. And what I say isn't always going to be the right thing. But…bear with me, man, because I'm trying."

There was a long pause, and for a moment Ryan wondered if that was it. But then Seth spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little hoarser. "Don't push us away, Ryan." The boy whispered. "Because it won't work, I'll tell you right now. Give up. We're not going anywhere. You're just going to have to suck it up, man. Put your big, tough, Chino ego on the shelf for a while, okay? As much as you're going to hate to admit it, you need us right now. And we need you, so we're not going to turn out backs on you. So get over yourself." He swallowed hard, and Ryan saw him swipe at his eyes. Then Seth sighed, and stood up. "Night, man." He whispered, heading for the door.

Ryan rolled over onto his back. "Seth?" He called.

Seth stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around.

Taking a deep breath, Ryan blinked back tears. "I'm _fine_, Seth." He said clearly, his voice shaking. "I'm fine."

He saw Seth nod. "Sure you are." He mumbled sarcastically. With that, he left, leaving the door ajar.

Ryan listened to his footsteps get farther and farther away down the hall, his eyes burning with tears, until he hear Seth's bedroom door open and close. Then he didn't hear anything anymore.

* * *

AN: Please read and review…I hope you guys are as pleased with it as I am. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	11. A Minor Detail

AN: Chappy eleven, here it is. This one is going to be slightly more light-hearted than the others I've been writing…lol which I guess isn't saying much. However, you will notice that Marissa and Summer will finally make an appearance. Contrary to what many people are going to believe, this was my intention all along. I'm pacing myself…join me, won't you? Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed as always. And Beachtree for continuing to be my best buddy, Swenglish for making me blush severely, and Nikki Greenleaf for sharing my love of Ryan torture. We're cut from the same cloth.

**FADING – Chapter Eleven**

**Wednesday**

Summer, God bless her heart, had shown up early the next morning when Ryan was still in bed. She came bearing cookies and a huge grin that had to be contagious, because Seth felt the gray cloud of misery that had been hanging over his head for the last couple days finally disperse.

"Hey, Cohen." She beamed, handing over a Tupperware container as she shrugged off her jean jacket. "You can just call me Betty Crocker. I've mastered the art of…"

Before she could finish her sentence Seth wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her petite frame against his chest. Resting his head on top of hers, he sighed gratefully for her presence, already feeling his mood and outlook change completely. After several long moments of holding her he pulled back just enough to kiss her, a long, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Finally, he released her and Summer looked up at her boyfriend, surprised. "Whoa…" She murmured, kissing his cheek. "I should make cookies more often."

Seth smirked. "Hell yeah." He said, taking her by the hand and leading her up the stairs to his room. "You're a smart girl, Summer Roberts. You know that the way to every man's heart is through his stomach…I just have to pray that this won't be like the Oatmeal-Raisin Incident of '04." He closed the door behind them and flopped down onto his unmade bed, hands folded underneath his head.

"I resent that." Summer shot back from the end of the bed, hands on her hips. "Those were from scratch, give a girl a break. Besides…they weren't that bad." Dropping her purse on the floor and kicking off her shoes, Summer climbed onto the bed, her hands on either side of Seth's head as she glared down at him with a look that dared him to say otherwise.

With a snort, Seth gave a half-shrug. "The word 'mealy' comes to mind…" With a laugh, he caught the pillow that came flying at his head and grabbed Summer instead, pulling her down to his chest. "It's the thought that counts, though." He kissed the top of her head.

Propping herself up on an elbow, Summer looked at Seth and all amusement had left her eyes. "How's Ryan?" She asked softly.

Seth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, one of us had to bring it up." Summer rubbed his arm gently.

"He's not good." Seth said quickly, staring up at the ceiling. "But you know, 'I feel like hell' apparently means 'I'm fine" in whatever Chino language he speaks." Seth shook his head, picking at an invisible thread on the blanket beneath him.

Summer nodded in understanding. "Not very talkative, huh?"

A small smile quirked up the corners of Seth's mouth. "We _are_ still talking about Ryan, right?" He said with a hint of amusement in his voice. But then it fled quickly and he swallowed, sighing again. "I don't know…he's mad at…well, everything, I guess. Me for getting on his case, my parents for hovering, himself for God knows what."

"Cohen…" Summer reached for his hand. "He's not mad at you. Or your folks. It's just…it's Ryan, right? Take-on-three-water-polo-players-at-once Ryan. He's never had to deal with anything like this before, and he's scared…"

Seth shook his head with a sarcastic laugh. "Ryan isn't scared of anything." He corrected her immediately.

Summer looked at him seriously. "Yeah?" She asked softly. "Well I sure as hell would be. I don't know how he is handling this, I mean, everyone in their right mind would be freaking out or giving up. Ryan isn't scared of much, Seth…but don't you think that this time he might just be? And maybe that's ok?"

The question hit him out of the blue. Pulling his eyes away from the endless depths of Summer's dark brown eyes, he stared up at the ceiling again. Ryan Atwood, scared? No way. But then…if their roles were reversed, Seth couldn't imagine what he would do if he were in his brother's place. Cancer scared the hell out of him. Being that sick scared the hell out of him. It was entirely possible that Ryan felt the same way…and maybe anger wasn't the right way to go about it, but it had to be better than giving up. Seth didn't want to think about what would happen if Ryan gave up.

Before he had a chance to answer her, a gentle knock at the door made both their heads turn as Kirsten walked in. "Seth, I…oh, hi, Summer." She said, smiling at the girl beside her son.

"Hey Mrs. Cohen." Summer said, blushing as she sat up from the bed.

As Kirsten trained her eyes back on her son, Seth couldn't help but notice the look of guilt behind the blue orbs; she was dressed for work, her hair and makeup done impeccably, as usual, for the first time in days. She clutched her briefcase like it was a lifeline. "Seth, I'm going to head into the office for a few hours…Your dad is going to be here until noon, but then he has to meet with a client. But he shouldn't be gone long. And I'll be back before supper." She absently looked down the hall at the guest room door before briefly lowering her gaze. Finally, she looked back at Seth. "I've got my cell phone on, so just call if you need me for absolutely anything…and your dad will be in the den…"

"Mom," Seth interrupted her. He waved his hand. "We can hold down the fort. Don't worry. Go to work." He said, offering a smile.

Swallowing hard, Kirsten nodded. "Right." Seth noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on the handle of her bag as she turned to leave. "Well, I was just in to check on Ryan and he was still sound asleep. So try not to wake him up, he needs his rest. But when he is awake see if he wants anything to eat. There's soup in the fridge, and you could make some tea…or even just crackers would be better than nothing. And you know where his medicine is..." She noticeably stopped herself. "I better get going. Nice to see you, Summer." Kirsten waved, and left the room.

"You too, Mrs. Cohen." Summer called after her. When they were met with silence, she turned to her boyfriend and sighed. "Wow. She really seemed upset."

Seth's eyes were still glued to the doorway. "Yeah." He said distractedly. "She really feels bad about having to go to work…like if she doesn't stay home 24/7 she's a bad parent, or something. But they also know that if they don't go, Ryan will be on the biggest guilt trip of the century, so…"

Draping a slender arm around his shoulders, Summer kissed his cheek. "Things are kinda crazy in the Cohen house, huh?" She asked warmly.

Leaning into her embrace, Seth nodded. "You have no idea." He cupped her cheek, bringing her face closer to his. As he placed his lips on hers, Summer wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

An audible thump and the sound of quick-moving footsteps from the guestroom next door made Seth pull away as he listened carefully. Moments later a door slammed shut and the sound of someone getting sick followed through the walls. In an instant he was on his feet. "Crap." He muttered under his breath as he walked quickly out of the room and the few steps down the hall to the guestroom.

Inside the room was dark; the blinds were drawn and no lights were on, but Seth could make out the rumpled, empty bed, and light peeking out from under the closed bathroom door. Gently, Seth knocked. "Ryan?" He called worriedly. "You okay in there, buddy?"

For a moment there was silence. "Yeah…I'm fine." Came Ryan's weary, strained voice from inside. Then Seth heard him cough again, undoubtedly trying to mask the sound as he heaved. "I'll be out in a minute, Seth." He barely finished his sentence before he got sick again.

"Ok, I'm coming in, man." Seth told him as he turned the knob and stepped inside. Ryan was curled up on the floor, holding onto the porcelain bowl for dear life. He was ghostly pale and shaking furiously. "God, Ryan." Seth said under his breath as he knelt beside his best friend, a comforting hand on his back.

Ryan shrugged him off. "I said I was fine." He growled, spitting into the toilet and resting his head on his arms. He didn't look at Seth.

"No you're not." Seth retorted, picking up a blanket haphazardly strewn on the floor and placing it over his brother's shuddering frame.

Swallowing hard, Ryan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "It's normal, Seth." He rasped, his voice almost at a whisper. "Been like this all night…just need to make it stop spinning, n' I'll be okay." As he spoke his body slowly relaxed, slumping down further and leaning against the wall.

Seth's stomach sunk. "All night?" He asked in disbelief. "Ryan…why didn't you wake us up, bud?"

Ryan shook his head. "Nothing you guys can do."

Seth stood and filled a cup with cool water from the sink. "Yeah, but you don't have to be alone, man." He said softly, holding the glass out to his brother. "Here. Drink some of this." He instructed.

"No." Ryan grimaced. "Not unless you want to see it again in a couple of minutes." He shuddered, reaching out a shaky hand to flush the toilet as he weakly pulled himself away with his arms and sat with his back against the wall.

"Even water?" Seth asked, his concern deepening.

Ryan just nodded.

Opening his mouth to reply, Seth didn't get the chance to before he heard the click of his mother's high heels on the tiled floor. He looked up to find Kirsten striding purposely towards them, Summer perched in the doorway."Oh, honey." Kirsten said softly as she knelt down beside them.

Ryan held up a hand. "'M okay." He murmured.

"He's had a rough night, mom." Seth interjected, ignoring the look of betrayal his foster brother shot him from beneath thick eyelashes.

"I'm alright." Ryan struggled to say clearly, putting up a persistent fight. He looked at Kirsten, who kneeled in front of him studying his face and stroking back his stubborn bangs. "You're supposed to be at work." He reminded her quietly.

Face drawn with concern, Kirsten shook her head. "Honey, maybe I should stay home." She said very softly. "You're still too sick to be alone, and…"

"He won't be alone, mom." Seth said suddenly, barely registering the look of surprise Ryan gave him from his seat on the floor. "Dad's around for a while. I'm here for him, mom. And don't forget Summer." He jerked a thumb back towards the doorway.

Noticing her for the first time, Ryan gave a weak wave. "Hey Summer."

Summer smiled gently. "Hi Chino…looking good."

His mother still looked more than hesitant, so Seth thought quickly. "Plus…you know, the cavalry of Newport awaits to visit this afternoon, the place will be bursting with people just dying to wait on him hand and foot…we'll be okay." When she still looked concerned, Seth looked at her calmly and said very softly, "really, Mom. I'll take care of him."  
Kirsten's sighed deeply. "Alright. But if he still isn't well this afternoon your father won't leave. And you have to promise to call me on my cell phone and tell me how he's doing. And if he's still not well no visitors, Seth. I mean it." Her eyes flashed in warning. "You understand?" She asked seriously.

"Yeah, I got it." Seth assured her. "The situation is under control, mom. We've got it covered."

With a reluctant nod, Kirsten glanced at Summer before looking back at her son. "Why don't you two go downstairs and see what there is for breakfast?" She stood to usher them both out of the room, casting a glance back at Ryan on the floor as she did so. "And put on a pot of tea, would you?" She requested as she moved to shut the door.

Seth nodded and turned to leave with his girlfriend standing close by.

* * *

Summer followed Seth as he walked into the kitchen to find Sandy reading a paper at the table, sipping at a partially full cup of coffee. "Morning." He greeted, smiling at the two of them. "You know if your mother has left yet? She's going to be late if she doesn't get a move on." He chided, taking a sip from his cup.

"Ryan's pretty sick." Seth said as he walked to the cupboard on autopilot, pulling out a kettle and filling it with water from the sink. "Mom's upstairs with him still." He milled around the kitchen purposely, needing to keep himself busy.

Sandy frowned and put down the paper with a sigh. "Oh no." He said softly, pushing away from the table and standing up. "I'd better go see how he's doing."

With a shake of his head, Seth started his search for teabags. "It's a pretty full house in there as it is." He explained, voice tinged with remorse. "Mom's pretty good at reading Ryan's moods…I took the hint that right now the less people watching him hurl, the better, you know?" he shrugged, ignoring the looks Summer and Sandy were giving him. Summer could sense his tension; it was obvious that he was still distraught from what had happened upstairs.

"Chino's not handling the whole 'caring' thing too well, huh?" She asked softly, her eyes on her boyfriend's slightly manic movements.

Sandy sighed. "When you grow up in a family like his, it can't be easy." He said, draining the last drops of coffee from his mug. "I guess he's not used to having people care this much about him…he doesn't know how to deal with the hovering...and that's something we Cohens do a lot of." He relented.

"Yeah, well, he better get used to it." Seth muttered, leaning against the counter.

Sandy gave his son a reassuring smile as he walked by and a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Well said, son." He waved at Summer as he left the kitchen. "I'll go check on Ryan."

When they were alone the silence that came between them was heavy. Summer stood across from him, unsure of what to say, but watching him in a way that told him she was nearby if he needed her. Seth stood there, wondering what to do next.

Her cell phone rang shrilly from her pocket, startling her out of her thoughts. Shooting Seth an apologetic look, she flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sum." Marissa's familiar voice greeted on the other end. "It's me. Are you at the Cohens?" She asked, sounding awfully chipper. Summer was a little surprised, but glad to hear that her best friend was in a better mood. The last time she had talked to her the other girl had been sobbing her heart out.

"Oh, hey, Coop. Yeah, I've been here awhile." She pulled the phone away from her mouth to whisper "it's Marissa" at Seth, who rolled his eyes in response. "You coming over?"

Marissa hesitated for a heartbeat. "Um, yeah. I'm at my mom's. I'm just getting into my car now." Her words were punctuated by the slamming of a door. "Hey…how's Ryan?" She asked, her voice thoughtful.

Summer swallowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. "He's…he's not having a great morning, Coop." She answered honestly. But then she brightened. "But I'm sure he'll feel a hundred times better once you get here. I bet he's missed you. The poor guy's been, like, separated from society for far too long." She scoffed.

"Yeah. Luke doesn't exactly count as 'society', but I talked to him last night. He's planning on stopping by later, too. He said everyone is talking about…Ryan." She finished her sentence quietly, and for the first time in the conversation Summer heard the sadness in her voice. But once again, her cheerful tone returned. "Well, I'll be there soon. Tell him I'm on my way. See ya." The call ended.

Flipping the phone shut, Summer looked up to find Seth looking somewhat irritated as he poured the now boiling water into a mug. "Great. Just what Ryan needs; the Wilting Violet, part two." He wiggled two fingers in her face, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Summer punched him in the shoulder. "Lose the attitude, Cohen." She warned, glaring him down. "We both know that Marissa has been through a lot the last couple months. So yes, maybe she was a tad unstable a couple days ago…but her boyfriend was in the hospital. Give her a break. She's coming over, isn't she?" She reasoned, and Seth sighed, relenting somewhat.

"Fine." He grumbled. "But if she dissolves into tears in front of him again that might be the last straw." He warned with a wag of his finger.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Summer looked at Seth dubiously. "Oh, what are you gonna do, Cohen? Beat her up?" She drawled sarcastically, smiling lopsidedly. "Besides, she sounded very…happy on the phone." Summer realized, nodding in satisfaction,

Seth's eyes widened. "Marissa Cooper, happy?" He gasped in fake surprise. Absently he swirled a tea bag in the steaming cup of water, watching as the liquid turned from clear to amber. "Something really _must _be wrong."

* * *

Twenty minutes later Seth and Summer were curled up on the sofa in the living room eating pancakes and watching TV. Seth had joined in a combined effort with his dad to get Kirsten to finally leave for work, and the plan had been successful.

Not easy, but successful.

"You put too much syrup on mine." Summer whined, looking down at her plate in dismay, her fork swirling absently in a pool of maple sweetness. "My pancakes need life jackets, Cohen. Why didn't you just let me do it myself?" She put her plate on her lap, glaring at it in disgust.

Seth rolled his eyes. "Because, Summer. You don't understand the art that _is the pancake_." He turned to face her, struggling to explain as if she were a child. "You see, the correct ratio of pancake to syrup, butter to whipped cream…it's complicated, Summer, to say the least. Now…"

Soft footsteps creaked the bottom stairs and caused their heads to turn. Ryan stood unsteadily on the landing, a hand gripping the railing as if to keep himself upright. His hair was a disaster, sticking up every which way as he reached up with a trembling hand to scrub sleep from his bloodshot eyes and pale face. But he had taken the effort to get dressed. "Hey." He waved weakly.

Seth got to his feet. "Hey, man." He said, taking a couple steps towards his brother. "Decided to join the land of the living, I see. Can I take that as I sign that you're feeling a tad better?" He asked hopefully, inching forward a bit more. Seth didn't want to crowd him, but he had to feel at least the slightest bit useful. Just sitting there wasn't an option, and rushing over to offer a piggyback ride to the couch would be just as disastrous. He had to find middle earth.

Ryan gave a barely perceptible shrug of his shoulders. "I'm fine."

The two now familiar words made Seth's skin crawl and his temper want to boil over. But he took a couple deep breaths and forced his anger back. Ryan could choose to play the "fine" card to his heart's desire. That didn't mean that Seth had to believe it.

Glancing between Seth and Summer, Ryan's gaze flickered away, uncomfortable with their silence and watchful gazes. "Yeah, well…I needed a change of scenery." He said with a half-smile. "The guest room ceiling is highly overrated."

"Ah! A joke from Mr. Atwood. He is definitely feeling better, Summer." Seth announced to his girlfriend with a grin.

Summer smiled. "Good to hear, Chino." She said, waving him over to the couch. "Come join us in the land of Early Summer Break, a time of sitting around and…well, basically doing nothing." She raised her hands in defeat.

Ryan shuffled across the floor in socked feet. Seth walked close behind him, ready to be at hand incase his brother became unsteady. He was so intent one watching Ryan's slow-moving feet that he didn't realized the other boy had stopped until he walked directly into his back.

Glancing over his shoulder, his glare slightly annoyed, Ryan stared at his foster brother. "You trying to put my shadow out of work or something?" He growled, his voice a little irritated.

"Alright, alright, grumpy." Seth muttered under his breath, holding up his hands in surrender as he allowed Ryan to walk the rest of the way to an armchair across the coffee table from Summer. After he had sat down, Seth followed and took a seat beside his girlfriend. He noticed the way Ryan stared at the plate on Summer's lap, his blue eyes glued to remnants of their breakfast. "Want some pancakes, dude?"

Seth watched Ryan turn green. Closing his eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, he shook his head firmly. "No." He replied, opening his eyes and directing his gaze elsewhere. "Just the smell is making me sick." He explained tiredly.

Summer removed Seth's arm from around her shoulders and stood up. "I'll take this plate to the kitchen, then." She offered helpfully, shooting Ryan a friendly smile. "Seeing my pancakes drowning in sugar is kinda turning my stomach as well, Cohen," She grouched, hitting his shoulder playfully.

When they were alone, Seth clasped in hands in his lap awkwardly, glancing over at his brother every once in a while. "Sooo…need anything, dude? Something to drink perhaps? You would not believe the vast variety of juice and pop my mother has overstocked our fridge with…No? Okay." Seth bobbed his head agreeably. "Maybe um…something to eat? And not pancakes. Mom left a list of things that might be easy on your stomach. Crackers maybe? I could pretend to know how to make rice. Or maybe you want to take another stab at soup…"

"Seth. Stop." Ryan begged, a hand running shakily across his face. "Just…just shut up for a little while, okay?" He asked, his voice bordering on anger.

Seth sat back in his seat, defeated. With a sigh, he shook his head. "Second time you've said that to me in the past twenty-four hours, Ryan." He said softly.

Ryan's face gave way to a look of regret as he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking at his brother seriously. "I'm sorry…I don't mean it." He assured him, dropping his eyes to stare at his feet. "Just…don't hover, Seth. If I need something, I'll get it. I'm capable."

"Fair enough." Seth sighed again, raising his hands in defeat. But as he watched his brother wincing and shift in his seat, obviously struggling with discomfort that had to be related to the ever-present pain in his back, Seth couldn't help but ask. "Do you want your meds, bud?" He asked helpfully.

Ryan shot him a dangerous glare.

Seth couldn't help the chuckled that slipped from his lips at the murderous look as he raised his arms in surrender. "Okay, okay. I get the picture. Just making sure." He smirked.

The doorbell rang, and before either of them could react, Summer called from the kitchen, "I'll get it!"

Raising a curious eyebrow at his best friend, Seth did his best to look normal. "Must be Marissa." He guessed. "She called Summer a while ago and said she was coming over. That's okay, right?" He asked hopefully. At the first sign of unhappiness on his brother's face, Seth was prepared to take whatever measures required to keep the two apart. If he had it his way, Marissa wouldn't have a place here right now. Not while Ryan was so sick.

Ryan's face brightened a bit and he smiled. A genuine smile. "Really?" He asked in surprise. Obviously Seth hadn't been the only one surprised that Marissa was actually facing up to a problem this big. Ryan pushed himself out of his chair. "Yeah, of course it's okay. That's great."

Seth smiled a bit. Maybe anything was worth that reaction.

"Ryan." Marissa's voice came from the entry to the living room. Their heads turned to find her standing unsurely by the hall, her expression a mixture of nervousness and anxiety as her wide blue eyes fixed on Ryan's face. She took him in an inch at a time, swallowing hard at his haggard appearance. Seth's spirits dropped. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

After a beat a cheerful smile was plastered onto her face and Marissa bounded over to Ryan, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "I missed you." She whispered into his ear.

Ryan smiled back. "I missed you, too."

Seth realized he had risen to his feet the moment Marissa had made herself known. The tension in his stomach unwound a bit and he sat back down, breathing a sigh of relief. Maybe this would be so bad, after all.

"Chino, you look like shit, man!" A familiar voice came from behind them.

Seth groaned inwardly. He had spoken too soon.

Along with Marissa and Ryan, Seth turned around to find Luke walking into the room, the usual cocky and dumbfounded look on his face as he came in and made himself comfortable.

Summer stood behind the water-polo-playing-villain-turned-friend guiltily. Seth looked at his girlfriend, exasperated.

She twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger nervously. "Did I forget to mention that he was coming over?" She asked him lamely.

Seth nodded. "Yup. That's a minor detail you left out."

* * *

AN: Holy crap, wrote more than I meant to. True, I could have cut it in half or something just as crazy…but where would the fun be in that? Now you people just have plenty to keep you occupied with until my next update…and plenty to add to your reviews, lol. Cheers!

Vancouverite


	12. Secrets Revealed

**IMPORTANT! READ THIS:**

AN: You won't like Marissa in the upcoming chapters, but don't run for the hills. Conflict is building, so bad stuff is bound to pile on as well…it kinda comes with the territory. My point is that I like her, I'm not trying to bash her, I just see her reacting this way. But don't worry, ALL my characters eventually go through huge changers during the story, so stick with me. Anyway, I just wrote out my plan for the next seven chapters, and holy crap I can't wait to get going. Thanks to Beachtree for continuing to be my rock. You posed many interesting questions, my friend. Just wait and see…all will be answered in time. Anyway, people have been slacking with the reviews…if you read, REVIEW PLEASE! It makes me write faster, swear to God. Anyway, enjoy!

**FADING – Chapter 12**

**Wednesday Afternoon**

"Sorry…that wasn't the right thing to say, was it?" Luke asked lamely, glancing awkwardly at Seth. He scratched at a tanned arm, his gaze wandering around the room from one set of eyes to the other. "Sorry, Chino. I'm an ass with words when it comes to situations like this."

Seth rolled his eyes. "_Just_ situations like this?" He muttered under his breath. "And only with _words_?"

Ryan shot him a glare. "It's ok, Luke." He assured the blond-haired boy. He released Marissa and stepped forwards to knock knuckles with his friend. "Good to see you, man. How's your summer been so…"

Luke surprised him by pulling him into a hug.

Seth wanted to laugh at the look of surprise on Ryan's face once he was released. "…Far."

"I couldn't believe it when my mom told me. She heard from some Newpsie at spinning or something…I had to come over and see for myself." He gave Ryan a look of concern as he studied him up and down. "You do kinda look like death though, man." He said reluctantly. At the disapproving look Marissa shot him, he held up his hands defensively. "I'm just sayin' is all."

Ryan cracked a smile "Yeah, I know I do." He relented. After a moment he sat back down in his seat, and Marissa made a spot for herself half on his lap. Seth was the only one who saw the pain that lined Ryan's eyes at the action, and every fiber of his being wanted to yell at her to get off. But Ryan wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. "So…how did word get around so fast?" He asked wearily. "I only found out a couple days ago." His voice took on that quiet quality that meant he was uncomfortable.

Luke shrugged as he took off his jacket and flopped down onto the sofa beside Seth, giving the other boy a playful punch to the shoulder. "Dunno, don't care." He shrugged, tossing his hair when it fell into his eyes. "What does it matter? One Newpsie caught wind of it and then it was gone from there. It's old news, man." He grinned at the others around the room. "So what's up?"

Seth couldn't help but laugh at the boy's unwavering cheerfulness, a stupefied but friendly and contagious smile on his face. "Not much, man…we've all just pretty much been slumming it so far." Seth offered up when no one else made an attempt to answer. The other choice bits of news that came to mind all involved Ryan, illness, and hospitals. So Seth decided to steer clear of those. "What have you been up to so far?" He asked conversationally.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Got out to the beach, did some surfing…my dad and I took a boat trip out to Catalina. Danced with some honeys, had a few beers, wrote a few songs by campfire…" Luke shrugged nonchalantly. "Haven't really had time yet to do much." He said with a sigh, resting his feet on the coffee table.

Marissa smirked. "Yeah, sounds like it." She said sarcastically.

Not catching on, Luke just nodded. "Yep…that's why I'm here." He folded his hands behind his head and looked at his friends expectantly. "I'm bored, man! We need to do something. Go out. Get into trouble. There's not much really to do in this town, sure, but…I'm getting desperate."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks, buddy."

"Going out _does _sound good, though." Marissa piped up, cocking her head to one side thoughtfully. She looked down at Ryan hopefully, her fingers playing with his hair. "We definitely need to get out of the house. A change of scenery." She looked around for help. But Seth and Summer glanced at her with matching looks of disapproval that she didn't catch on to. "Even if it's just to the pier…at least to get Ryan out of this place. Some fresh air, a walk on the beach…"

When Ryan's eyes met Seth's with a silent cry for help, Seth looked at Marissa and shook his head. "Nah, the beach is highly overrated. Sun burns, crabs, sand gets…" Seth gulped, thinking quickly. "…in places. No. We're fine right here. We've got lots of food…and Playstation! Don't forget the video games!" He shouted.

Summer nodded furiously. "Yes! That's a good point!" she told her best friend knowingly.

Marissa's eyes narrowed. "You hate video games." She accused, and then shook her head. "Well then how about the mall? Or the Crab Shack? Come on, you guys…we need to get out of the house." She whined jokingly, kissing Ryan's cheek. Then she looked into his eyes curiously. "You're awfully quiet…don't you want to go somewhere?" she asked.

Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but words didn't come out fast enough.

"Uh, um…I hate the mall. And the Crab Shack…_so _sick of that place, don't get me started." Seth jumped in. "I'm cozy, I'm holed up for the day...I think we need to take some time for TLC, ya know? A little relaxation, some movies maybe…"

With another sigh and roll of her eyes, Marissa sat up. "Whatever." She muttered, standing up and walking out into the hallway. "I'm going to get something to drink." She tossed over her shoulder as she fled for the kitchen, Summer trotting after her.

"I'll have a Pepsi. No ice!" Luke called after her, grinning when he caught Seth staring at him dubiously. "Sup, Cohen?"

Seth bit back a laugh at his friend's confusion. "Luke Ward, you amaze me to no end." In his peripheral vision he saw Ryan stand up and steady himself briefly before slowly walking away. "Where you going, man?" Seth asked.

Ryan met his eyes briefly. "I need some air." He murmured, and left the room.

When he was gone, Seth sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He had thought that having their friends over would ease the tension in the Cohen house, maybe help them forget about sickness and cancer for a while. But it had turned out that instead Ryan was reminded that things weren't normal; they couldn't go out whenever they wanted to, or do the things they usually did for fun. And his girlfriend didn't understand why.

"Cohen…" Seth looked up to find Luke staring at him intently, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned towards his friend with a look of seriousness and concern that wasn't usual for his normally upbeat personality. "How is Ryan? Really, I mean." He asked softly.

Seth folded his hands and sat back in his seat. He wondered what the correct answer to that question was. "Bad enough to not want to admit that he's not well enough to leave the house." Seth said finally, and Luke nodded solemnly in response. "The chemo takes a lot out of him and ever since we brought him home he's just been…" Seth's voice wavered and he stopped himself before he lost control of his emotions.

"Really sick, right?" Luke finished for him, his blue eyes understanding. "Puking non-stop, tired, aching…probably a bit of a pain in the ass attitude-wise, too." He chuckled humorlessly.

Brows furrowing in confusion, Seth stared at his friend. "How do you…?"

"My aunt had breast cancer." Luke explained remorsefully, his expression thoughtful. "She came to live with us for the last couple months…the chemo was what destroyed her. She died a couple years ago."

Bristling, Seth sat up a bit straighter and glared hard at Luke, his brown eyes flashing. "That's not going to happen to Ryan, though." He said quietly, but his voice was hard and stony.

Luke's eyes widened. "What? Dude, I-I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean that Ryan was going to die, too." He shook his head briskly, backtracking. "I was just telling you…"

"Don't say that Ryan is going to die!" Seth said furiously, his voice rising a bit. He shot to his feet and his eyes blazed down at Luke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Seth hadn't realized that Summer and Marissa had reentered the room, having no doubt heard his slight outburst from the kitchen. "Just because it happened to your aunt doesn't mean it will happen to Ryan. He's going to be fine, we're taking care of him. Ryan is not going to die." He insisted emphatically, his throat feeling tight.

Marissa gasped in the doorway. "W-what?" she asked in shock, her voice a near whisper.

Luke got to his feet as well and raised his hands in front of himself defensively. "Marissa…Cohen, I didn't mean it like that, I swear." He pleaded with them, trying to calm both of his friends down.

"Then why did you say it?" Seth asked between tightly clenched teeth.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. It was Summer. "Cohen…" She said softly, gaining his attention. Her wide brown eyes gently willed him to back off. "Calm down. You know that's not what he meant." She pleaded with him quietly.

Seth took a step back and a deep breath. Running a hand through his curly hair, he glanced at Luke's apologetic eyes and Marissa's tear-stained face once more before spinning on his heel. "I'm gonna go find Ryan." He said, and left them alone.

* * *

Seth found Ryan in the bathroom down the hall. The door had been shut, but Ryan had been too busy throwing up to answer him when Seth called his name. So he pushed it open to find his foster brother, for the second time that day, heaving violently into the toilet. Even though he had nothing left in him.

Swallowing hard, Seth took a few hesitant steps forward and placed a gentle hand on the other boy's shoulder. "You…you okay, man?" He asked softly. It was a stupid question; of course Ryan wasn't okay. But he didn't know what else he was supposed to say.

Ryan took a couple of deep breaths. "Just leave me alone, Seth." He begged weakly, struggling to breathe through the nausea.

Seth pushed aside the hurt at those words and slowly shook his head. "I can't do that, Ry. I'm sorry." He gently squeezed Ryan's shoulder, reaching over to flush the toilet for him. "You think you're ready to try one of those Compazine pills, see if they make a dent?" He offered helpfully. He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to do, but he did know that Ryan had to stop throwing up. There was nothing left in his stomach, and sooner or later he was going to get severely dehydrated.

Keeping his eyes squeezed shut, Ryan shook his head.

"C'mon, man." Seth tried desperately. "It's gotta be better than heaving all the time. I'll get them, okay? They're just in the kitchen, I'll be right back…"

"Seth, I don't want any." Ryan said as loudly as he could. "They make me feel worse instead of better…I can't keep them down, anyway." His voice dropped to a whisper at the last part.

Seth wanted to argue. But he knew that if he did he'd just be pushing Ryan further and further away. So reluctantly, he backed down. "At least have something to drink, Ryan. You've got nothing in you, bud." He started to fill a glass from the sink. "Try some water, or I can get you some ginger ale from the fridge if you want."

Ryan shook his head again. "I don't want anything." His tone was pleading.

Seth sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. He wasn't cut out for this. His parents would know what to do. But he couldn't back down. He _had_ to let Ryan know that he was not going to back down. "Then what do you want to do, Ry?" He asked gently.

Laying his head on his arms, Ryan just sighed. "Sit here…for awhile." He murmured tiredly.

His heart breaking, Seth swallowed over the lump that had formed in his throat and leaned against the wall. "Okay." He murmured quietly, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground beside his best friend. "Then I'll sit here with you."

Ryan blinked at him a few times. "You don't have to…

"I know that." Seth interjected, folding his hands on his knees. "I want to."

Seeming to accept that as an answer, Ryan relented and closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Seth heard voices outside, and realized he had left the door ajar. Peeking out into the hall he could see Summer facing Marissa, her posture defensive.

"Coop, he's okay, really." Summer was saying to a nearly hysterical Marissa. "He's been like this all morning…the chemo makes him sick, sweetie. He'll be fine in awhile." She tried to assure her.

Marissa wiped at her tears. "How is this okay, Summer? I come out here and they're talking about Ryan dying! Dying, Summer. This is far from okay." She cried. "You knew this? You knew how sick he was and you didn't tell me?"

Summer tried to calm her down, speaking in a low voice. "Marissa, I just didn't want to worry you." She soothed. "He seemed better a while ago, it seemed like he was having a good day. And I just thought if I told you that maybe you…" She wisely didn't finish her sentence.

Eye's wide, Marissa stepped towards her. "What, you thought that if I knew he was really sick that I wouldn't come? That I wouldn't be able to handle it? Is that what you thought, Summer?" her voice was near shouting now as she shook her head, tears tracking down her cheeks.

At that point Seth pushed the door shut, glancing at Ryan worriedly. But his brother's expression was unreadable. His eyes were still closed and he sat hunched over, barely able to keep himself upright. But Seth saw the muscles in his jaw tense.

Summer's voice floated in through the door. "Coop, I didn't say that."

"Yeah, but you were going to." Marissa shot back angrily. Then there was a pause, and Seth found himself holding his breath. "I'm out of here." Marissa's voice said quietly, followed by footsteps clattering away in the opposite direction.

Silence followed. Seth looked at Ryan, his eyes full of concern. He had known that something like this would happen. One way or another, Marissa Cooper had once again worked her magic. "Ryan…"

"I'm fine." Came the automatic answer.

Heaving a sigh, Seth nodded. "Of course you are." He muttered under his breath.

There was a knock on the door. "You guys okay in there?" Luke's worried voice asked from the other end. "You need me to do anything?"

Seth smiled a little at Ryan, but his brother did not reciprocate it. So instead he scooted across the floor and sat close beside him. "You ready to get out of here, man? I've seen just about enough of this bathroom for one day." He said lightly. When Ryan nodded, Seth looked back towards the door. "Yeah, we're coming out, Luke." He called back, and stood up, reaching down help his brother to his feet.

Ryan lifted his head and pulled his arm away. "I can do it." He protested weakly.

Biting back a remark, Seth forced himself to go slow; rushing either of them would only force them farther apart. "I don't doubt that you can, bro. But humor me. Let me help you up." He said with a smile, wrapping an arm around Ryan's torso and lifting him to his feet. "Do me a personal favor."

Once standing, Ryan pulled away and squared his shoulders. "Do _me _a favor and stop treating me like a baby." He shot back, blue eyes blazing on a pale face.

Seth held up his hands. "Sorry."

Ryan turned his back on Seth for a moment and leaned heavily against the counter, his head bowed, his eyes closed. "Don't…don't apologize." He said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "I know you're just trying to help…I'm sorry." His eyes blinked sluggishly a couple times and we wavered on his feet, gripping onto the tiled slate counter tightly

Seth's heart jumped. "Ryan, you okay?" He asked worriedly, laying a hand on his brother's arm. "Come on back into the livingroom, man. You need to sit down. Marissa's gone, and…"

"Marissa…" Ryan whispered, what little color in his face draining away before Seth's very eyes as he watching his friend's reflection worriedly in the mirror. "I…" Without warning Ryan's eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. Within seconds, he was falling towards the floor.

Reacting fast, Seth caught his brother around the waist, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. "Ryan…Ry, answer me, man." Panic raced through his veins as Seth struggled to keep them bother upright. Ryan had gone completely limp in his arms, his eyes closed, his face ghostly pale. He wasn't moving. "Oh my God…Luke!" He shouted.

The door burst open and slammed against the wall with an explosive bang and instantly Luke was there as he slung one of Ryan's arms around his neck and wrapped a well-muscled one of his own around the unconscious teen's waist. "Let's get him to the couch." Luke demanded, and together they carried their friend out of the room.

They found Summer sitting by herself on an overstuffed armchair back in the living room, staring at her hands and twirling a strand of hair around her finger nervously. When she heard them enter, she looked up and gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God, what happened to him?" She asked in shock, rushing to help as they lowered Ryan's immobile form to the couch.

"I don't know, I don't know. One minute he was telling me to leave him alone, the next he just turned all pasty." Seth rambled, his voice shaking fearfully as he was unable to take his eyes off his foster brother's still features. "Then he just fell over. I don't know what's wrong…I don't know what we should do…"

"Seth, calm down. You're panicking." Summer placed both her hands firmly on his shoulders and made him look her in the eye. Seth could tell that she was struggling to maintain her own sanity, as well. "I'm going to go get your dad, okay?" She explained hurriedly, and fled the room.

Seth gulped for air, realizing that he'd be of little help if he hyperventilated and ended up passing out himself. Looking down he saw Luke kneeling beside Ryan's prone form, squeezing his arm with his fingers and watching his skin intently. "What are you doing?"

Luke ignored him. "Cohen, when the hell was the last time Ryan had something to drink?" he asked, his tone serious.

Seth shook his head. "I-I don't know, I mean…he hasn't been able to keep even water down all morning, and he said he'd been sick like that all night…" Staring at the back of Luke's head, Seth's mind raced to keep up. "Why…why, what's wrong with him?"

At that point Ryan's eyelids fluttered and he let out a low moan, weakly bringing up a hand to his head. Seth breathed a heavy sigh of relief as his brother's blue eyes opened to slits, looking up at his friends in bleary confusion. "Wh…what happened?" he asked weakly.

"Chino, when was the last time you drank something?" Luke asked instantly, eyes burning holes into Ryan's. After several moments of silence, Luke shook his shoulder roughly. "Ryan! Answer me." He demanded.

Ryan shrugged. "I don't…know." He said softly, barely able to hold his eyes open. "A while, I guess…I don't feel so good." He moaned, rolling onto his side.

Luke shot to his feet and was already taking long strides to the kitchen. "That's because you're dehydrated, you stupid kid." Luke chided, returning a few seconds later with a glass of water. "I know you feel sick, and putting something in your stomach is probably always gonna be the last thing on your mind, but if you don't drink something this," he gestured down at him, "happens." Kneeling back down, he put a hand under Ryan's back and lifted him up into a slight sitting position. "Drink this. Don't complain or I'll kick your ass. And you know I can."

Doing as he was told, Ryan couldn't help but smile slightly over the rim of the glass. "I'd…kill you." He said exhaustedly when he was done.

Luke grinned. "Not like this, you wouldn't." He said as he helped his friend lie back down. Then his eyes turned serious again. "Better?" He asked worriedly.

Ryan nodded, turning his head into a throw cushion. "Mmhmm." He mumbled.

Some of the tensed up ball of panic in Seth's stomach began to unwind, and he shared a grateful look with Luke. Leaning down, he placed a gentle hand on his best friend's chest. "Take a nap, bro." He said softly, watching as Ryan's breathing evened out before their eyes. "We'll be here."

Moments later Summer's heels hammered down the hall as she came storming back into the room. "Cohen, your…"

Seth held a finger to his lips and pointed to Ryan.

"Sorry." Summer whispered, coming to stand beside them as they looked down at Ryan's sleeping form. "He looks better…Cohen, what I was trying to say is that your dad isn't here."

Forehead creasing in shock, Seth gaped at his girlfriend. "What?"

Summer just shook her head. "He's not in the house, the Beamer isn't in the drive way." Tucking her hair behind her ears, Summer brushed a few strands of Ryan's bangs off his forehead. When she saw him shiver she pulled an afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over him, tucking it in gently. "I guess he left for work and just didn't tell you." She offered.

Seth shook his head, his expression pained. "Why the hell would he do that? It doesn't make any sense…At least freakin' tell me he's leaving, so that I know I'm in charge if there's an emergency, which you all quite clearly saw I am not cut out for." He took a couple of deep breaths before plowing on. "I don't get my dad…when Ryan was first in the hospital, he was Ice Man…he didn't help out, he was just scared shitless. Then for one night he transforms into Wonder Dad, pulling an all-nighter and hovering around Ryan like I don't know what…now he's hiding at his office again."

Luke shrugged. "Sometimes parents have meltdowns, too." He reasoned, sitting down in a chair across from the couch Ryan was sleeping on. "They can't be perfect all the time." He said, cocking his head to one side.

Seth stared at him. "That was so noble of you, Luke." He said sarcastically. "But my dad said he would change. I heard him one night crying. _Crying! _My dad does not cry. But there he was pouring his heart out to Ryan while he was asleep. And he told him, I heard him _promise_ him, that he would not leave him alone through this. And look what he's doing." In a huff, Seth slumped down to sit on the coffee table, his head resting in his hands.

"Cohen, maybe it's not like that at all." Summer said, placing a soothing hand on his back. "Maybe he said goodbye and we didn't hear him, or…maybe he was just trying to give Ryan back a little independence. Just don't jump to conclusions is all I'm saying."

Seth looked at her, but shook his head. "I don't know. I don't care. It wasn't right." He sighed, his eyes wandering back to Ryan's sleeping face. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank God Luke was here, because I sure as hell wouldn't have known what to do."

Luke shrugged and took the attempt at praise anyway. "Just be grateful that it was something minor." He said. "Dehydration at this point is one thing…he was just too stubborn to drink anything. It can get to the point where it's physically impossible for him to keep water down. That's when you can't help at all…and they have to be taken to the hospital." He said sadly, his eyes thoughtful.

Summer was staring at him in surprise and confusion, so Seth filled her in. "Luke, as it turns out, is up on his cancer."

"Shut up, Cohen." Luke growled half-heartedly. Then he grinned slightly. "You were no help, dude. I thought I was going to be carrying two bodies to the couch at one point." he giggled at Seth's scowling face.

Seth crossed his arms. "Okay, we've established that I'm useless in an emergency, let's move on." He grouched, glaring across at the blond-haired boy. Then his eyes flashed and he looked at Luke curiously. "Hey…how did you know that he was dehydrated, anyway?"

"Soccer. You know, it's that trick they teach you about how quickly the color returns to your skin when you touch it…" He trailed off and smiled at Seth mockingly. "Oh, sorry, Cohen. I forgot that you're not really the athletic type." Luke laughed.

"Shut up, I'll have you know I am very skilled at crochet…"

Summer's voice interrupted their argument. "You guys…look." She said, drawing their attention as she pointed to a pink leather purse partially hidden underneath a sofa cushion. "Marissa left it. She was in such a hurry to leave." She said sadly as she reached down and grasped the handles, hefting it onto her lap. The latch was undone, and the flap that held it closed fell open, exposing the contents. "She really didn't mean to be like that, you guys. This is really hard on her, and…" Summer's voice trailed off as their eyes fell on the inside of the purse.

There, on top of tubes of lipstick, compact mirrors and a set of keys was a half-empty bottle of vodka.

* * *

AN: I hope you liked it, but DAMMIT REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! I haven't been getting enough lately. Next chapter: Sandy faces the wrath of a protective Kirsten and an angry Seth! Marissa goes too far...a sick Ryan has to get Seth out of a jam, and ends up needing rescuing himself...can't wait? Me neither! Cheers, REVIEW!

Vancouverite


	13. Drama

AN: I was totally overwhelmed with the reviews. Thank you SO much for listening and giving me your thoughts as much as everyone did, I was totally floored with your input! Beachtree, as always, you're my star. You ask all the right questions. Wait for your answers. Marissa fans, hang in there. We're going through a tunnel. But I promise there is light on the other side. It'll just take a while to get there.

**FADING – Chapter Thirteen**

**Wednesday Evening**

Seth's fingers expertly jabbed at the X and Y buttons on his game console, watching transfixed as his sword-wielding player charged at its opponent on the television screen. "Oh, oh! Your ninja thinks he has the upper hand, is that right? Well, sorry to say my friend, you're sorely mistaken!" Seth gently nudged Ryan's arm with his elbow. His ninja swung its sword. "You didn't need that leg, did you?"

Dropping his controller in a huff, Ryan laid his head back against the couch, shifting on the floor. "Sometimes I worry that maybe we've played this game a little too much." He said softly. "And when I say 'we', I really mean 'you', Seth." He smirked at the other boy.

With a roll of his eyes, Seth sat up onto his knees and began rummaging through his wide assortment of games. "Fine, have it your way. You choose to forfeit to the Ninja master, we'll play something else…" He looked up when Summer entered the room with Kirsten, both holding plates full of Chinese food. "Why thank you, ladies." He put on his most charming grin.

Summer handed him a plate with a glower. "Don't get used to it, Cohen."

Ryan eyed the food wearily that Kirsten had set before him. His portion mostly contained rice and other bland foods which she had no doubt put into careful consideration, and even though he was feeling slightly better since that afternoon, eating was still the farthest thing on his list of things to do. He looked up at her watchful, concerned gaze and forced a smile. "Thanks."

Kirsten smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "I know. Just try, sweetie." She whispered softly.

As promised, Kirsten had returned from the office just after five to discover Ryan still passed out on the couch, Sandy still not home, and a clearly agitated Seth pacing the floors. When he had relayed the day's events to his mother, Kirsten had been just as angry and confused as her son. 'KirstenMothering' had resumed at full force and she hadn't yet Ryan out of her sight yet.

Lifting his fork to his plate, Ryan sat up and winced in obvious pain for the hundredth time, and it didn't go unnoticed by Seth. He had been watching his brother battle with pain all evening and wanted desperately to ask is he could offer a painkiller. He knew it had been a long time since the last on his brother had consumed and managed to keep one down, and also realized that Ryan's back and head had to be killing him. Yet each time Seth had offered, Ryan had turned the offer down, her response angrier than intended.

"You're watching me eat, Seth." Ryan's slightly annoyed voice announced, snapping Seth out of his daydream.

"Oh, um, sorry." Seth stumbled over words, embarrassed, as he gave his head a firm shake and focused on his own meal.

Summer glanced between the two boys. "Actually, no, Chino." She said around bites of chicken. "That would require you to actually be _eating_ the food, not pushing it around the plate. You know…fork to mouth…chewing action…give it a try." She said encouragingly, motioning dramatically with her own utensils.

With the barest hint of a smile and a small sigh, Ryan hesitantly lifted a forkful of rice from his plate and put it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Amazed, Seth shook his head and smiled at his girlfriend gratefully. If the sarcastic comment had come from anyone else, say, him for example, Ryan would have leveled him with a glare and perhaps more than a few choice words. But when it came from Summer, she somehow managed to get away with it.

Everyone stopped when they heard the front door open and close in the foyer, followed by Sandy's footsteps as he wandered into the kitchen, looking for his family. "I'm home, and I smell dumplings!" He called. "Where is everybody?"

Exchanging a glance over Ryan's head, Kirsten looked directly into Seth's eyes and wordlessly begged him to stay out of this one. Then she gave Ryan's shoulder a squeeze. "Eat your dinner." She instructed distractedly. Then she trotted out of the room to the kitchen.

His jaw set, Seth's eyes followed his mother's retreating form out into the hall. Immediately he heard their hushed voices and wrestled with the need to get up and follow, adding in a few of his own rehearsed lines that he had prepared for his father's homecoming. But he looked at Ryan and watched as his pale and slightly green foster brother slowly ate his food, oblivious to the tension around him. He didn't want to leave him alone.

Summer squeezed his hand and he looked up to see her looking at him knowingly. Then she nodded towards the kitchen. "Go." She mouthed, glancing at Ryan. "I'll stay with him."

Kissing her cheek in thanks, Seth stood up and patted his brother's shoulder affectionately. "Dude, I need more pork. I'll be back." He announced, looking down at Ryan. "How are you handling the food…you need anything?"

"Not really." Ryan muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the couch, eyes closed and swallowing hard. "Not unless you've got a gun back you can use to put me out of my misery." He joked weakly.

"I'm not sure about that, but I'll bring you some ginger ale." Seth said sympathetically as he sauntered towards the kitchen, listening absently to his friend's conversation behind him

"What?" Ryan asked innocently.

"That wasn't funny, Chino."

"Lighten up, I was kidding."

Summer sounded offended. "Lighten up?" She repeated, mouth agape. "Now _that's _funny, coming from you…"

As Seth approached the kitchen his parent's voices became more pronounced. He stepped lightly, being extremely stealth as possible as he crept up to the corner and glanced into the room. His mother was standing by the refrigerator, her hands on hips and a frown of anger and confusion lined her eyes and mouth. She glared coldly towards her husband, who stood loosening his tie, his dark, messy hair falling into his eyes as he shifted from foot to foot, his posture nervous and defensive.

"Kirsten, I don't understand what the big deal is." Sandy was saying as he unbuttoned his collar, shaking his head. "I knew that Seth was here with Summer, Luke and Marissa had shown up…I didn't think it was necessary to come parading in, hovering incessantly and worrying about whether he could last a couple hours with out us, and take away what little normality Ryan had gained by being with his friends. Is that so wrong?"

Seth saw his mother advance a step. "It's not up to you to make that kind of decision, Sandy." She snapped, her voice low and accusing. "They are only sixteen, for crying out loud! They are kids! Seth is a levelheaded teenager, yes, but he is not a good enough substitute for a parent if you should decide to leave the house unannounced!"

"Oh, come on, Kirsten! Let's not blow this out of proportion." Sandy shot back, his voice level rising to match that of his wife's. "Everything turned out okay, didn't it? The kids are fine – _Ryan_ is fine. Nothing happened…"

"That's where you're wrong, Sandy." Kirsten's voice was quiet and dark, as her blue eyes burned into his. She sighed, and her hands fell from her hips. Then she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "Ryan got really sick this afternoon. He collapsed."

Seth saw the color drain from his father's face as his eyes paled and widened. "…Is he…I mean what…" He stammered, his voice filled with panic. Sandy swallowed hard. "Is he okay?" He demanded to know, moving to walk past his wife.

Kirsten stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. "He's alright, Sandy. He was dehydrated. The boys knew what to do. They took care of him, and he's much better now. He's in the living room eating dinner."

Sandy let out a huge breath of relief, gripping the island and the counter tightly as he stared at the floor, closing his eyes. "Thank God." He said under his breath.

Arms still crossed, Kirsten watched her husband regain his composure. "No, thank Seth and Luke. And that it was something minor. I don't want to think about what could have happened if it were something worse…I _can't _think about it…" her voice trailed off and caught in her throat. She stared at her husband's face. "What were you thinking, Sandy?" Her voice had dropped to a near whisper.

"I…" Sandy's voice dissipated as well and the blaze from his eyes died instantly and he shook his head. He looked lost. "I…don't know."

Seth squared his shoulders and walked purposely around the corner. Both his parents looked up at his entrance, and Seth met his father's eyes with a hard, angry glare of his own. "Good to see you, dad." He said sarcastically. "Nice that you found the time to fit us into your schedule."

"Seth…" Sandy began, unsure of what to say. "I…I don't know what to say."

Opening the fridge and sticking his head inside, Seth stared at rows of food and waited for the cool air to get rid of the red hot anger pouring through his veins. "You could start with 'I'm sorry', maybe." He suggested bitterly.

"Seth, I _am_ sorry." Sandy said instantly, his voice unsteady. "I didn't make the right decision…I know. And I put you in a horrible position today. Your mother told me what happened and I-I want to thank you for the way you handled the situation. You used your head, and you behaved like an adult…"

With a snort, Seth tried to locate the can of soda he was looking for. "Yeah, well, someone had to." He retorted.

"Seth," His mother's voice warned strictly. "I'm handling the situation."

Slamming the fridge door shut and spinning around to face her, Seth squeezed the can of ginger ale in his hand fiercely, his temper flaring. "No, you're not, mom. Because you weren't here, you don't know what it was like today. And do you know why not? Because you were at work, too." He shook his head, pinned under the guilty eyes of his parents. "Maybe I should be the one with cancer…would that make you stay home?"

He turned to leave the room, but his father's startled, angry voice caught up with him. "Seth!" he shouted at his son's retreating form. "Get back here! You do not get to walk away."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Seth spun around slowly, staring at his father with a look that harbored his feelings of despair, fear, and betrayal. "Why not, dad? You did." He said soft enough for both of them to hear. He watched as Sandy froze, his face fell. Then Seth turned back around and left the room, leaving his parents to stand stunned in the silence of the kitchen.

* * *

Seth wandered back into the living room with his eyes glued to the floor, his hand unconsciously gripping the can still in his hand. As he got nearer to where his friends were he made a conscious effort to put the conversation with his parents out of his head for the time being. Ryan would pick up on his mood immediately, and the last thing his brother needed was something else to worry about.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the new person in the room until he stood in front of the couch and reached out to hand his brother the ginger ale. "Here you go, man. No gun, but this will have to do…" His voice trailed off when he caught sight of the girl sitting beside Ryan, smiling goofily. "Oh…"

"Look who stopped by." Ryan said with a grim smile. Marissa wrapped a slender arm around his shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

Seth tensed instantly. Shit. What the hell was she doing here now? "Marissa…sup?" He said nervously, scrutinizing her up and down. For a girl that'd had a meltdown hours previously, she was looking much too upbeat for Seth's liking. Turning to Summer, Seth locked eyes with his girlfriend and exchanged a look of unease. "Summer…Marissa is here!" He said, feigning joy.

Summer nodded. "I see that, Cohen." She said through tightly clenched teeth.

Seth forced himself to sit down, hovering on the edge of the sofa. He looked at Marissa suspiciously. "Did you come to get your purse?" He asked, an edge of warning in his voice.

Marissa missed the reference completely and shook her head, grinning widely. "Nope. It's like I told Ryan, I came to apologize…I was a total bitch this afternoon." She said with a pronounced pout. Then she smiled brightly again and threw her arms around her boyfriend. "But Ryan said its ok. So I'm happy now!"

"So I see." Seth hoped he was wrong, but he could hear the barely audible slur in her words. His worry mounted when he glanced at Ryan. His brother was looking at Marissa with the same expression of muted anger and hurt. Just as Seth began to wonder if Ryan had the same suspicions, he realized that he could smell the alcohol on the girl's breath from where he was sitting. When Ryan looked up and their eyes met, it was obvious: Ryan knew as well.

Marissa was peppering kisses on his face while Ryan struggled to push her away. "Marissa…what's going on?" He asked, gripping her shoulders and holding her at arm's length.

Her smile wavered. "What do you mean? Nothing is going on." She said, pushing his arms away and kissing him again. "I came to visit you…I thought it would make you happy." When he said nothing and went stiff in her arms, Marissa pulled away and stared at his face with her wide blue eyes. "You're not happy?"

"What does it look like?" Ryan said softly as he struggled to detangle her arms from around his neck again, pushing away. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at the floor. Seth saw him shudder. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice rough. His expression was hurt and confused.

Marissa inched closer. "I don't know what you mean…"

"You've been drinking." Ryan interrupted her angrily, tearing his gaze off the floor long enough to glare at her with clouded blue eyes. Seth saw the despair there and blamed himself for letting Marissa come over in the first place that afternoon. He had known that this would happen. He had seen all the signs. Yet he had allowed Summer to persuade him that it would be okay, that maybe this time Marissa wouldn't drag Ryan down with her. But she had proven him right.

Eyes flashing with guilt, Marissa blushed and struggled to keep the tears at bay that threatened to fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks. "No, I…

"Great, now you're going to lie to me, too?" Ryan growled, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

Wetness trailing down her cheeks, Marissa reached out to touch his arm. "Ryan, I'm sorry." She sobbed, ducking her head when he pulled away again, refusing to look at her. Then she sniffed, wiping the tears from her face and narrowing her eyes at him accusingly. "What do you expect me to do? Be strong like you? Bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine? I can't do that, Ryan! You have cancer." She staggered to her feet and stood over Ryan, her tear-filled eyes flashing as she advanced towards him.

Seth saw Ryan wince at her words, hurt contorting his features briefly as if he had been slapped. Anger again coursing through his veins, Seth moved to push himself up from the couch when he heard Summer's sharp intake of breath from beside him, and she pushed him back. Then she stood up and gently took her friend's arm. "Coop, maybe we should go get some coffee." She suggested helpfully.

"No. I don't want coffee. I don't want Ryan to be mad at me." Marissa sobbed, her face crumpling again as collapsed back down onto the couch and tried to gather Ryan into her arms.

"I think that ship has sailed." Seth growled at her.

Summer glared at her boyfriend. "Cohen, shut up." She warned. Then she held Marissa's arm more firmly in her grip and tried to pull her up and away from Ryan. "Coop, come on. Let's go for a walk."

"I don't want to." Marissa wailed, trying to wrench her arm free. Summer managed to haul her to her feet, where Marissa staggered and tried to push her friend away. "Let go of me, Summer!" She cried, outraged, arms flailing.

Her outstretched arm clipped the lamp standing on the side table, sending it sprawling to the floor where the expensive ceramic base crashed and broke in half. Seth watched as Ryan paled and shut his eyes, flinching at the noise and curling in on himself a little more, his expression pained. Embarrassed. Seth wasn't surprised to see his parents rounding the corner in record time, taking in the scene before them in surprise.

Seth got to his feet as Summer struggled to pull her sobbing friend away from the broken lamp. He met his parents halfway and locked eyes with his mother. All of his previous anger towards them disappeared for a moment. He needed them right now.. "She's drunk, mom." Seth sighed softly, desperately.

Kirsten seemed to take it all in stride as she walked towards Marissa and a struggling Summer. "Marissa, sweetie, let's get you into the kitchen." She said, putting a hand at the girl's back and directing her out of the room. "I'll call you a cab. It's time to go home."

"No." Marissa sobbed, still struggling out of their grips. "I don't want to go home. I want to stay. I need to stay with Ryan. We have to be together, he can't leave me…I need him."

"He's not leaving you, Coop." Summer said softly.

Marissa shook her head sadly. "Yes he is. He has cancer." She sobbed, her chin dropping to her chest as tears steamed down her cheeks. "I need him. He can't leave me." She repeated, quieter.

Kirsten's eyes widened, and then hardened as she pushed Marissa more firmly out of the room. "That's enough, now." She scolded. "You have to go now, Marissa. You've said enough." After a bit more cajoling, Summer and Kirsten managed to get the distraught girl down the hall to the kitchen.

Seth's heart hammered in his chest, and he turned to look at Ryan. His brother's eyes were glazed with tears, his breathing rapid. He didn't look up at them, he just stared at the floor. Seth had to do something, say something to make it better.

Just as he had opened his mouth to speak, Sandy strode purposely across the room and sat down beside his foster son, wrapping a comforting arm around his shivering shoulders. "Ryan, kid let's get you upstairs, how about?" He suggested, rubbing the teenager's arm. "It's been a long day, I'm sure you could use the rest."

"I'm fine, Sandy." Ryan said quietly, pulling away slightly from the embrace. "Could you just…make sure Marissa gets home ok? Please?" He asked quietly.

Sandy shook his head. "Kirsten is taking care of that, kid." He told the boy softly. "Don't worry about her anymore tonight. It's not your problem."

Ryan's face twisted as he struggled with his emotions, glaring hard at his foster father with a look that demanded he be left alone. "That's not what it sounded like." He said lowly. "To me it sounded like it's exactly my problem. She's upset because I'm sick, isn't she? That's why she's drunk, right? If it's not my problem, please tell me, Sandy, whose is it exactly?" With those words, he pushed up from the couch onto unsteady feet and left the room.

Seth watched him go, wondering why suddenly he couldn't even force a single word past his tight throat. Staring down at the carpet, he felt his father's dark eyes boring down on the back of his head, but didn't look up. He was still mad, after all.

"I'll go talk to him." Sandy said softly, his voice resigned as he put his hands on his knees and pushed up from the couch.

Looking up with a bitter shake of his head, Seth got to his feet quickly and stood in front of his father looking him directly in the eye. "Don't bother." He leered, turning his back and walking towards the hallway. "You were doing so well at not getting involved, why start now?"

He felt his father's shock as he walked away. After a moment, Sandy found his voice. "Look, I am sorry, Seth! I made a mistake, I know that. What more do you want me to say?" When Seth didn't turn around, didn't give any reason to believe that he would stop, or say anything, Sandy threw his hands up in defeat. "Is this how it's going to be? Is it, Seth? Are we just going to let this family fall apart?" He got no answer as his son disappeared around the corner.

Feeling more lost and alone than ever, Sandy stood silently beside the coffee table, his gaze flitting around the living room, his hands shaking. A warm presence came up behind him, and a gentle hand soothed across his back. Sandy sighed.

Kirsten reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Just give him time. Both of them." She whispered softly. "Everything is going to work out. I promise." Her voice told him that most of her previous anger towards him had melted away and was left with an air of defeat, similar to his own.

"I'm holding you to that, honey." Sandy said softly.

* * *

Ryan was sitting on the low bed in the pool house, running his hands across the familiar smooth linens. The soothing, deafening quiet of this room always astounded him as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several moments. He had missed the solitude here.

He tried to concentrate on nothing, to wipe every thought from his mind. But a stab of pain caught him by surprise between his shoulder blades, the dull ache throbbing up his back and into the base of his skull. And before he had realized it, thoughts of Marissa, the Cohens, and cancer filled his head, making it hard to breathe.

"Dammit." He whispered, hands clenching the sheets as he felt the unwanted sting of tears in his eyes. Blinking several times and taking deep breaths, he waited for the pain to recede. After a while the moment passed, and Ryan sighed, staring out at the rising moon as it reflected off the pool. He didn't want to think about Marissa. It didn't matter what Sandy had said, there was no way around it. He was the reason why Marissa was drinking again. They had finally been happy, really, actually happy, and then he had gotten sick. And this time he didn't have the energy to save her. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

The doorknob turned and opened, revealing Seth and Summer standing hesitantly in the frame. "Hey, man." Seth said gently, entering the room slowly. "Had a feeling I'd find you in here."

Ryan nodded numbly. "Marissa got home ok?" He directed his question towards Summer without looking up.

"Yeah." Summer replied quietly. "We got her into a cab…she had sobered up a lot as soon as she left the scene of the crime. I guess she just needed a break." She gave him a small, hesitant smile.

Ryan tried to smile back, but couldn't. So he gave up. "Thanks." He murmured, staring at the carpet. He hoped they would take the hint and leave him alone. He just wanted to go to sleep and pretend that the whole day had never happened.

"So, anyway dude, Summer and I are bored, and we know that you've got to be climbing the walls as well." Seth said conversationally, crossing the room and flopping down onto the bed beside his brother. "So I figured we could watch a movie? Something gory with mass destruction. We could watch it in here if you like, away from the parentals. I think we _all _could use a break from them." He sighed dramatically.

With a shake of his head, Ryan continued looking at the floor. "No thanks, Seth. I'm pretty tired." He said softly.

Seth looked disappointed. "What? It's only eight thirty, dude. Plenty of night left." When he didn't get an answer, Seth nodded in understanding and struggled to remain optimistic. "Okay, that's cool. Hey, if you want you can just crash in the living room with us and Summer and I will veg and watch one ourselves…"

"Actually, I was thinking why don't you two go out?" Ryan suggested, meeting Seth's eyes for the first time. "You've been stuck with me all week either in the house or at the hospital, you need to get out of here. It's summer vacation. Go to the Bait Shop, drink, dance. Do what you're supposed to be doing." The pain in his muscles and joints was building and his head was beginning to pound. What he really wanted was some real privacy for a few hours.

Although he looked surprised, Seth bobbed his head. "Uh…okay, man. But…are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, cocking his head to one side. Then he smiled. "Why don't you come with us? Don't worry about the parents, I've guilted them to the point where they'd just about let us do anything we want right now. What do you say?" He asked excitedly.

Ryan shook his head. "No. Thanks, though." His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand over his face wearily. "I'm just not up for it."

"But Chino, you told me you were feeling so much better earlier." Summer jumped in hopefully. "Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yeah." Ryan nodded, taking in their disappointed expressions. "Go on, you guys. I'll be fine. You don't have to baby sit me every second of the day. Go have some fun. There will be plenty of time for more drama tomorrow, right?" He joked humorlessly.

Seth shook his head. "I don't follow."

Ryan swallowed hard and let his eyes fall to the floor again. "Chemo tomorrow." He said softly. "Remember?" It was a thought that had been plaguing him the whole night. Tomorrow the cycle would start all over again. Back to the hospital, the pain, throwing up, the Cohens hovering…

"Right." Seth said after a heavy pause. Ryan's foster brother had paled in realization, his expression sad.

Ryan couldn't stand to see the sympathetic, remorseful looks on his friends' faces anymore. So feigning happiness, he clapped his hands together and gave his brother a shove. "Well, you guys better get out of here while the night is young." He said mock-enthusiastically.

Seth got to his feet and stood beside Summer, their expressions reluctant. "Are you sure, man?" Seth asked softly. "Because we can easily stay here…"

His patience waning, Ryan shut his eyes. "Seth, go." He growled. When he opened his eyes again, he swallowed and lowered his head guiltily, struggling to smile. "Please. Go. I'll be fine." He promised, locking eyes with his foster brother.

"Okay, man." Seth gave in, shoving his hands into his pockets as they turned to leave. "We'll see you later, then." He gave a small wave, and then he and Summer were gone.

Once again alone, Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, pain, and misery. Slowly he allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, curling into a tight ball and closing his eyes, burying his head in a pillow. Finally, it was the end to a very long day. Now if he could just go to sleep and not think. Not dream about Marissa's face streaked with tears, a bottle of alcohol in her hand. Seth's dejected look every time Ryan told him to leave him alone, to give him space, or said that he was 'fine'. Or the sympathy and guilt that Sandy and Kirsten seemed to emit every time they got near to him, their eyes filled with needs that they wouldn't voice, like the desperate plea that he hurry up and get better, so that everything could go back to normal.

And no matter how he tried, Ryan wasn't getting there fast enough.

* * *

The shrill ringing of a cell phone added to the pounding in his head, bringing him out of a deep, heavy sleep. Disoriented, Ryan blinked in the darkness, squinting as the room came into focus. He was still in the pool house, he realized, and the lights had been turned off, the covers drawn up over him, and his shoes removed. Sandy or Kirsten must have come looking for him and thankfully had decided not to move him.

The ringing still hadn't stopped. Glancing blearily at the clock on the bedside table, Ryan groaned at the reading. It was one in the morning. Who was calling him now? For a moment he thought that it was probably Marissa, still drunk and still trying to make a mess of things. So in that moment he decided not to answer it.

His curiosity got the better of him, and Ryan found himself fumbling for the phone on the nightstand. Blinking at the display in the darkness, he immediately flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. "Seth?" He croaked into the phone, confused.

"Ry, dude, I'm so sorry to wake you up, man." Seth's apologetic voice came from the other end. "You know I wouldn't do this to you unless I was in a jam. And I didn't want to, I swear, but something happened, and you're the only logical one to call, so…"

Rubbing his eyes, Ryan leaned back into the pillows. His back hurt. His head throbbed. He was cold and exhausted. He didn't have time for this. "Seth, spit it out." He snapped into the phone. "What's going on? What do you need?"

"Well, you see, we were just on our way home and we ran out of gas." Seth explained guiltily. Ryan could hear Summer in the background chattering away, her tone irritated. "I thought it would be enough to get us home, but apparently I was wrong. Yes, Summer, wrong! Anyway, I'd call mom and dad, but I'm out past curfew and my head will be on a platter if they find out." He didn't continue, but Ryan could tell where this was going.

Instead of frustration, Ryan felt rush of adrenaline course through his veins as his eyes snapped open, suddenly alert. He pushed out of bed and began scrambling in the darkness, gathering up his shoes and a coat. "Where are you, Seth?" he asked, ignoring the shake in his hands and the headache behind his eyes. "Did you take Summer's car?"

Seth paused. "Dude, you're gonna come? Thank you so much, man. I'll owe you big time." Ryan could hear the delighted smile in his voice. "Um, we're about two miles from the turnoff to the pier. And yeah, we took Summer's car. The keys to the Rover are in the kitchen." Then he hesitated again. "Ryan? You don't have to do this if you're not up for it, man. I'm calling a tow, anyway." He said softly, gently.

Jerking his arms through the sleeves of his coat, Ryan left the pool house and trotted quietly to the doors of the kitchen. "I'm coming. Don't worry about it. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Before Seth could say anything more, Ryan flipped the phone shut and stepped into the darkness of the kitchen. Quickly and silently he located the keys and retreated to the driveway. As he got into the front seat of the car, he rubbed his temple and willed away the ache in his head. Nothing was going to keep him from doing this. For the first time in days someone needed him instead of the other way around. He was going to prove to everyone that he could still be the same reliable, dependable Ryan.

Including himself.

* * *

"Ryan, dude, you have no idea how good it is to see you." Seth gushed as he and his girlfriend piled into the rover. "Hitch hiking seemed like a really good idea at first, until the only people that slowed down were water polo players that shouted obscenities out the window…then between Summer wining and cursing me, and the fact that it's cold outside, you seemed like our best option." He shrugged, looking out at the road.

Summer rolled her eyes. "Cohen, you deserved it. Be grateful that all you got was cursing." She growled. "First you bitch because you wanted to drive, then you don't even realize that we're out of gas. Well done!" She said sarcastically, smacking the back of his head.

Seth evaded her attack. "At least Ryan could come get us. Thanks again, man." He said, patting his brother's arm in gratitude. When he got no answer and realized that it had been a while since his best friend had said anything at all, he glanced at Ryan's face. He was pale and his eyes were glazed and squinting slightly, as if he were in pain. "You okay, man?" He asked worriedly.

Ryan just swallowed hard, his tightly clenched jaw working. "I'm okay…" He said quietly, his voice strained. He took a hand off the wheel to rub his eyes. "It's just a headache." He said softly.

"You don't look so good, man." Seth noted quietly. When Ryan didn't reply, Seth placed a gentle hand on his forehead and frowned. "You're warm. You've got a fever." He cursed under his breath, shaking his head. "I knew I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"I'll be fine." Ryan said, grimacing. He shivered slightly, his eyes blinking as if her were struggling to stay focused on the road.

Summer was watching the exchange worriedly. "Cohen…maybe you should drive." She suggested softly.

Seth nodded. "That's a good idea." He said, placing a hand on his foster brother's shoulder. "Ryan, why don't you pull over? I'll take over from here. You need to rest, bro." His concern mounting, Seth looked on worriedly as Ryan continued to deal with his pain, his eyes dull and glazed.

"I'm okay, Seth." He ground out. "I…" His voice trailed off and suddenly he slammed his eyes shut, his breathing reduced to pained puffs of air, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.

Seth's panic mounted. "Ryan, pull over, man." He ordered, wrapping his fingers around his brother's wrist, studying his pale face. "Pull to the side of the road and I'll drive. Come on, buddy. You're scaring me."

Suddenly Summer's gasp from the backseat caught his attention. "Seth, look out!" She shouted, pointing out the window.

Seth looked up just in time to see that the Rover had wandered over into the opposite lane. Blinded by the headlights of another car, the blare of a horn hammered through his ears as Seth dove across Ryan and jerked the steering wheel to the right, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Moments later he felt the ground change beneath them as they veered sharply away, the tires squealing across the pavement to the bumpy gravel on the side of the road. With a thump, and a loud crash, they came to a stop, the car tilted awkwardly to the side. The airbags went off, and the lights from the highway receded. As the dust settled, silence rang heavily in Seth's ears.

* * *

AN: WAY too long a chapter. But I wanted it all. I have a feeling this length could turn out to be the norm from now on…I'm sure my readers wont complain. Want a brief for next chapter? Someone must save the day, but who? What will Sandy and Kirsten have to say when the boys get home? Ryan's second day of chemo ensues and continues to make life hell on earth. And what the heck is going on with the Cohens and work, anyway? REVIEW as always! Toodles and cheers,

Vancouverite


	14. Fear of Losing

AN: Chapter fourteen. Wow, over 300 reviews! This is phenomenal, way past anything I could have hoped for. I'm so glad people are enjoying this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. This chapter is going to grant a little insight on things, specifically with what has been going on with Sandy and Kirsten. And some good old fashioned Cohen comfort. I hope you like it. The end might throw you for a tailspin…and make you mad.

**FADING** **– Chapter Fourteen**

_I am colorblind_

_Coffee black and egg white_

_Pull me out from inside_

_I am ready, I am ready, I am ready,_

_I am fine_

**_Colorblind – _Counting Crows**

**Early Thursday Morning**

Seth watched numbly as the tow truck slowly and painstakingly pulled the damaged Range Rover up and out of the deep ditch it had settled into. He knew what he would find on the other end; the entire right side was dented in, and the front wheel had come off its axel. Not to mention numerous scratches and a busted fender. "My parents are gonna kill me." Seth muttered to himself.

Ryan, who had been seated silently beside Summer in the back of an ambulance that had shown up, shook his head, wincing slightly as he did so. "Seth, it was my fault." He repeated for the thousandth time that night. "I was driving…I drove right off the road. I'll tell your parents what happened."

"Ryan, none of that matters." Seth said as he tore his eyes off the wreck and walked towards where his brother and girlfriend were getting checked out. Luckily they had all been wearing seatbelts and had suffered nothing more than a good scare. Explaining to the cops that Ryan hadn't been under the influence had been a difficult task, but after everything had been sorted out the paramedics had been extra careful to check Ryan over and gave him something for his headache. "I knew better. I never should have called you out here. You're sick…it was a stupid, self-centered thing to do." He shook his head at himself.

"Then I shouldn't have come. I could have said no." Ryan reasoned, raising an icepack to his head. Seth knew that his brother's head was killing him, despite the painkillers. He could see it clearly written all over his face. "There _are_ forces stronger than Seth Cohen, you know." He muttered.

Summer sighed. "Ain't that the truth."

After the accident Seth's heart had been hammering wildly. He'd thought they were dead. But Summer's voice brought him back to reality as she crawled into the front to make sure they were all okay. Seth had been shaken up, but fine. Ryan on the other hand, had been in worse shape. Seth had found him shaking like a leaf, his eyes darting around in a panic. It had taken several minutes for them to calm him down and get the distressed teenager out of the car. Soon after the cavalry showed up, complete with police, fire, and ambulance.

A cop walked towards them with a flashlight and a grim expression. "That car isn't going to get you home tonight. The mechanic is taking it in. Unless you have someone that can come get you and take you straight home, I'm going to call your parents and drive you all to the station." He explained the situation slowly, glancing between the three teenagers. "What's it gonna be?"

Seth looked between Ryan and Summer before turning back to the police officer. "Well there is…_one_ person."

* * *

"Man, when I got the call I freaked. I thought Seth Cohen has gone and killed them all!" Luke laughed, banging a hand on the steering wheel and looking at his passengers through the rear-view mirror. "But then when I heard that it was Chino driving…dude, then I flipped." He nodded towards Ryan, slumped in the seat beside him.

Seth glanced at his brother worriedly. "Luke, we appreciate the ride, we really do." He said dramatically. "But it's been a bad night, and we'd just all like to forget it." He begged.

Luke held his hands up defensively. "Fine, fine." He relented, focusing on the road. "You're lucky is all I was going to say. It could have been a hell of a lot worse."

"Thanks for the news update, genius boy." Summer narrowed her eyes at the blond teenager driving, rubbing her neck with nimble fingers. "Too bad my dad isn't a chiropractor…I'm going to need some serious adjustments after this debacle." She groaned, kneading her shoulders.

There was a soft, distressed sigh from the passenger seat. "I'm sorry." Ryan mumbled, his voice nearly a whisper.

Seth sat forward in his seat and put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, looking at his pale profile seriously. "Ryan, stop it, okay? You're sick. You couldn't have helped it. I shouldn't have even called you in the first place." He swallowed heavily. Ryan had been too quiet, even for…well, Ryan. His face was still lined with pain and he was still shockingly pale. The longer it took them to get home, the more Seth began to worry. He just hoped he could get his foster brother home in one piece. "It was entirely my fault. It's the truth, and it's what I'm going to tell my parents." He finalized, watching his friend to gauge his reaction.

"No." Ryan said quickly, opening his eyes and squinting out at the road. "I drove us into a ditch, Seth. Not you."

"Chino, what are you doing?" Luke asked in shock. "Let Cohen take the fall. Are you crazy?"

Ryan shook his head exhaustedly. "I'm not going to let you take the heat for me. No way in hell." Though his voice was weak, he held much conviction and determination behind the words. "I'm telling them the truth." He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply and shivering slightly as the wind from the partially opened window blew his sandy hair across his forehead.

"Yeah, and the truth is that grandma driver Cohen wasn't bright enough to know that we were out of gas, so we broke down and he hauled you out of bed to save his ass." Summer added, elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs.

Seth leaned forward into the front seat and reached across his immobile brother to close the window. "Leave him alone, you guys." He said softly, sitting back into his seat, his eyes still watching Ryan worriedly. "He's asleep."

Luke glanced back at him in concern. "Is he okay, Cohen?" he asked, glancing at his passenger. "He doesn't look so hot." He said simply.

"Funny, 'cause he is kinda hot. I think he's got a fever." Seth crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring out the window as they got closer and closer to home. "He shouldn't have come. He's sick." He said, almost to himself.

He could feel Summer staring at him. "Cohen…it's Ryan." She said, her voice soft. "How can you even think that he _wouldn't_ come?"

With a shake of his head, Seth looked at her quickly, guilt evident in his eyes. "I wasn't saying that it isn't my fault, Summer. Because it is." He said immediately. Then he returned his gaze back to the landscape of Newport out the tainted glass windows of Luke's truck. "Of course I know that…Ryan always has my back. No matter what." He finished quietly, feeling a lump form in his throat.

Summer hesitated. "Then why…?"

"I don't know." He interjected quickly. Then his tone softened. "It's like…I forgot, or something. Or I didn't want to believe that this is all real. That even this part of him has changed…you know?" He sighed, a hand coming up to scrub his tired eyes.

Silence filled the car as Summer reached for his hand and held it tightly in her own. After a moment Seth looked up to see Luke nodding at him in the rear-view mirror. "_I _know, Cohen." He said enthusiastically.

Seth couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure you do, Luke." He muttered.

All too soon and yet not soon enough, they pulled up into the driveway of the Cohen residence. Lights in the kitchen, pool house, and foyer indicated that the residents were definitely not asleep. As soon as Luke killed the engine, the front door was flung open, and a panic stricken Kirsten came sprinting towards them, her bathrobe floating behind her. A disheveled Sandy was close behind.

As soon as Seth had stepped out of the vehicle his shoulders were seized by his father's firm hands, squeezing him and shaking him as dark blue eyes marred with fear and concern burned into his. "Are you alright? Where the hell have you been? Do you know what time it is?" Sandy's voice boomed as he alternated between crushing his son against his chest and holding him at an angry distance. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? We were about to call the police!"

"No need. They'll be giving you a call soon, I'm sure." Seth said as he managed to squirm out of his father's constricting embrace. At the look of shock on Sandy's face, Seth quickly explained. "Not what you think. Summer and I ran out of gas, Ryan came to pick us up…we got into a little accident. A _little _one. Luke came and got us." He explained quickly.

A brief moment of relief filled Sandy's eyes before they began blazing with anger. "You called Ryan to come get you?" he growled.

Seth heard his mother's gasp as she threw open the passenger door. "Oh my God…Ryan." She reached in and within moments was extracting the disoriented teenager from the car, an arm around his trembling shoulders as she helped him onto his feet. As Sandy took off his bathrobe and draped it around his foster son, Kirsten's furious blue eyes landed on her the other teenager. "Seth. What the hell is going on?" She demanded in a growl.

Before Seth could reply, the slam of a car door interrupted his train of thought as Luke stepped out, looking at his parents. "Mrs. Cohen, it's not as bad as it looks." He said, his hands raised non-threateningly, his voice calming. Summer stepped out to join him. "Ryan was driving them home, and I guess he wasn't feeling well because the car went out of control. But Seth got them to the side of the road…a ditch, unfortunately. The car took the damage." He explained helpfully.

Seth watched as his father struggled to remain calm. "Summer, are you alright?" He asked the girl softly. When she nodded the affirmative, Sandy turned to Luke. "Then I suggest you both go home. I'm sure your parents are worried about you. And I need to talk to my son." He finished darkly.

As their friends pulled away, Seth felt Sandy's firm grip on his upper arm as he was directed up the steps to the house, following Kirsten and Ryan. They didn't stop until they were in the kitchen, and Seth was steered towards a stool at the island, across from his father, who stood leaning against the counter, his expression enraged.

"Sandy." A weak voice caused all heads to turn towards Ryan, weakly leaning against Kirsten. In the light of the kitchen, his pallor alarmed Seth even more. It seemed a miracle that the boy was still upright. "This was my fault. I was driving." He insisted vehemently as possible.

With a shake of his head, Sandy looked at his foster son. "Ryan, we're not discussing this. Don't try to take the fall for Seth, not this time. Not when you all could have been killed." Sandy returned his gaze back to Seth. "_None_ of this is your fault." He said softly, his voice gentle even as his eyes burned furiously at the other boy across from him.

Ryan shook his head. "No, Sandy, you don't understand…"

"It's not your fault, Ryan…" Sandy repeated with an impatient wave of his hand.

"Why the hell not? Because I'm sick? Because I have cancer?" Ryan exploded suddenly, his voice unsteady and his eyes bright with tears. He was shaking. "Is that why it's not my fault, just like my girlfriend being drunk isn't my fault? That's the only reason why we're blaming other people, isn't it? Because the cancer patient shouldn't have to 'worry' about responsibilities." He said bitterly, stepping back out of Kirsten's embrace.

Seth felt as though he had been punched in the stomach as he watched his brother tremble, his tortured expression sending daggers to Seth's heart. "Ryan…it's not like that, I promise." He said softly, taking a careful step towards him. "This wasn't you. It was all me…"

"I was driving, Seth! How in any way is it your fault?" Ryan demanded angrily.

Before Seth had a chance to answer, Sandy butted in. "Because he called you when he could have called us. You, who he knows is sick." With a shake of his head, Sandy stepped towards his foster son with a thoughtful expression. "Don't fight us on this, Ryan. The only thing you did wrong was go out after Seth." He reached out a hand to touch the shivering teenager's arm.

Ryan drew back from his touch, his eyes burning with tears of confusion and hurt. "No." He said softly, his voice close to breaking. "That's the only thing I did right." Then a flash of pain crossed his face and he winced, closing his eyes and taking in a sharp breath as he reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall.

"That's enough now." Kirsten said softly, wrapping her arm once again around his trembling shoulders and drawing him out of the room. "Up to bed. I'll get your meds." As she steered him out of the room, she looked back and her flashing blue eyes landed on Seth's. He knew the look there.

Disappointment.

When they were alone and Sandy turned back to his son, Seth sighed heavily and leaned back against the counter. He stared at the floor, feeling his father's eyes on him the entire time. "Your brother has cancer. He needs you to be looking out for him right now. Not the other way around." He said quietly, but his tone was serious, more than disapproving. "Are you proud of yourself?"

Seth looked up and stared back. "No. Are you?"

Sandy's eyes narrowed. "What…"

"Are you proud that you're still running away? Running from Ryan, who you just reminded me has cancer. That's something I understand, dad." He said sarcastically. "I know that because I've been with him. I've seen him throwing up until he can hardly stand. I've seem him practically paralyzed with pain in his back. I know that he has cancer, dad. I'm more concerned about your knowledge on the subject." He said lowly, glaring fearlessly back into his father's darkened eyes.

Sandy struggled to regain his composure. "This isn't about me, and my mistakes, Seth." He replied, almost sadly. "It's about yours."

With a humorless chuckle and a jerky shake of his head, Seth rested his eyes on a point on the wall just over Sandy's shoulder. "It's so far beyond that, dad." He said softly, regretfully. "It's this whole family." After a beat, he let his gaze travel the short distance to his father's confused eyes before pushing off the counter and walking from the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sandy's voice boomed after him.

Seth didn't turn around. "Bed. I'm really tired." He said simply.

Sandy sounded angrier than ever when his voice reached Seth's back again, and yet he made no move to go after his son. "This conversation isn't over yet, Seth!"

With a snort, Seth started up the stairs. "It was over before it began, dad." He shot back, not caring whether he had been heard or not.

* * *

Ryan looked up from his bowl of cereal when he heard heavy footsteps cross into the kitchen. Seth walked bathrobe-and-slipper-clad into the sunlit room rubbing his eyes sleepily, his curly hair in complete disarray. Ryan glanced at the clock on the microwave and grinned a little. It was almost eleven o'clock. "Morning." He greeted.

Seth blinked at him a couple of times before smiling broadly. "Hey." He said back, going to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice. "Dude, look at you! Munching away there. You're looking pretty good."

Saluting with his spoon, Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I feel pretty good." He replied. And that was true. After waking up Ryan had felt the best he had in days. And when it had dawned on him, his good mood had died instantly; the feeling would be short lived. He was going back for chemo today.

"Alright, that's awesome, man!" Seth said enthusiastically, clapping him on the shoulder. As he poured himself a bowl of Fruit loops and sat down in a chair beside his brother, Seth shook his head. "If that's the case, you're going about it all wrong. Shouldn't you be celebrating by having one of those spectacular breakfast feasts you can prepare instead of Corn Pops? I mean, take advantage, Ry." He said, pouring milk into his bowl.

Ryan stirred his cereal thoughtfully. "I feel better, but I wouldn't go that far." He said softly, and Seth quieted, nodding in understanding. Then Ryan put down his spoon and sat back in his chair. "Plus…we're leaving soon for the hospital. I don't want to do anything that I'll regret later when I'm _not _feeling so good."

After a moment, Seth nodded again, his expression sympathetic.

High heels tapped into the room. "Ryan, finish up your cereal. We better get going." Kirsten said as she walked towards the table, punching numbers into her cell phone as she went. When she noticed Seth, she smiled gently. "Oh. Morning, honey."

Seth nodded back.

Watching the exchange with an unwavering feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, Ryan sighed. He knew that the tension was because of him, and because of what had happened last night. Because of the accident that _he _caused but no one would acknowledge. It still made him want to put his fist through a wall when he thought about the rift he had caused between Seth and Sandy. There had already been something going on between them before the accident, and he had made it worse.

Ryan pushed his chair away from the table. "I'm ready."

"Got a lot of meetings today, mom?" Seth asked without looking up from his bowl. Ryan detected a note of sarcasm in his voice.

Kirsten must have noticed it too, because she bristled and put her cell phone away. "Um…no." She said after a moment. Then she started fidgeting with the collar of her jacket. "Well, just one with my dad at three. But I'm canceling it. It's taken care of."

Narrowing his eyes, Ryan stood up and pulled on his sweatshirt that was folded across the back of his seat. He wished he wasn't always so cold. It was summer in California, after all. "Why?" He asked, confused. "You said we'll be home by one. I thought you'd be going into the office." Ryan said worriedly. She wasn't staying home again just because of him. Was she?

"Sweetie…you know how hard the chemo is on you." Kirsten said gently, her eyes softening. "You can't be alone."

Ryan shook his head. "I can take care of myself, Kirsten." He said softly. Then with a reluctant sigh, he looked at the floor. "I won't be alone. Seth is here." He replied, nodding towards his brother seated at the kitchen table. Seth bobbed his head at the mention of his name, waving a hand as he spooned more cereal into his mouth.

Kirsten gave a slight nod. "We'll see, honey." She said as she gathered up her purse and motioned Ryan towards the door.

"Speaking of offices, might I ask where father is on this fine morning?" Seth asked, looking up at his mother with a fake look of rapt interest.

Footsteps clomped towards them and all heads turned as Sandy walked into the kitchen, struggling to pull on a navy sweatshirt as he ran his fingers through damp hair. "Sorry. Had to shower." He said as he grabbed a bagel from the counter and followed his wife to the door. "Seth, you're grounded. Don't go anywhere." He tossed over his shoulder without looking at his son.

Struggling to wipe the look of surprise off his face, a ghost of a smile turned up the corners of Seth's mouth as he watched their exit, Ryan waving as they walked out across the patio. "That's…fine." He mumbled to himself. "I'll call Summer."

* * *

After the injections, Ryan had fallen asleep in the recliner as the IV containing the "miracle juice", as Seth called it, flowed into the veins in his hand. Sandy had been surprised at how quickly his foster son had nodded off, but in a way, had been grateful. After watching the torture Ryan had to endure with each needle to his spine Sandy had been desperate to put an end to his son's excruciated expressions and small, weak whimpers of pain.

He watched as Kirsten reached forward to smooth a stray lock of hair off the teenager's forehead. Ryan didn't stir. "He wants me to go to work when we get home." Kirsten said sadly, sighing. "He said he could take care of himself…makes me wonder if he's ever had anyone really look after him. When he was sick, when he was a child…it's like he just doesn't understand the concept. It's completely foreign to him."

Sandy nodded in understanding. He'd had the same thoughts enough times himself. "You can go in to the office, Kirsten." He said quietly, sitting back in his uncomfortable hospital chair. "Seth will be there. And I will be there, too. It'll be good for Ryan." He reasoned.

"How will that be good for Ryan?" Kirsten asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Sandy. We discussed this last night. One of us needs to be at home with him at all times in the days after his chemo sessions." She insisted, her voice adamant as she adjusted the blanket covering their foster son. He was shivering.

Sandy looked up. "I just said I'll be there, didn't I?" Sandy snapped, his voice unintentionally harsh. Immediately he felt guilty, and reached out to put a hand on his wife's knee. "I'll be right upstairs, Kirsten. It will be fine. You should go. Ryan needs to know that we still trust him. He's getting desperate, honey. He's losing everything…why should he have to lose whatever little independence we can give him?" He asked, gazing into his wife's piercing blue eyes.

Kirsten shook her head. "He's a kid, Sandy! He doesn't know what he needs." Her voice dropped to an angry whisper. "He's very sick…he needs our help, it doesn't matter if he thinks he can take care of himself. That's our job."

Letting his gaze wander to Ryan, Sandy stared at the boy, amazed at how asleep he looked like a small, sick child instead of the Ryan he knew. Feeling his eyes burn with tears, Sandy looked away, staring at the floor. "It doesn't matter…he'll push us away no matter what we do." He said softly.

He felt his wife's concerned eyes watching him as she reached for his hand. "Why do you let him?" She asked.

Swallowing over the lump that had formed in his throat, Sandy struggled to meet her gaze. "Because…because I want to give him whatever I can." He bit his lip to stop it from quivering. But his voice still shook. He took a deep breath. "And…and because I'm terrified of losing him."

"Oh, Sandy." Kirsten said softly, and he allowed her to lean forward and wrap her arms around him. He laid his head against her shoulder, letting her warmth push away the coldness he felt wrapped around his heart. "If you let him keep pushing you away that's exactly what you're doing. Losing him." She whispered, her voice rough with unshed tears.

Struggling to breath, Sandy shook his head against her. He wouldn't say what he really believed, the only thought that had kept him going as thoughts of losing his son had haunted his mind every waking hour; if Ryan kept pushing away it meant that he was still Ryan. He was still strong enough to not have turned into a shell of the former person, still capable of beating this thing. And if that meant that Ryan had to push Sandy away, he would let it happen. It was the only way he could keep him.

A deep breath came from the bed and they turned to see Ryan blinking open heavily lidded eyes. After several moments his hazy blue eyes settled on them and he tried to smile, but it quickly turned into a wince, then a cringe, and he ducked his head, squeezing his eyes closed and gritting his teeth.

Kirsten immediately settled onto the large armrest of the chair and gathered him into her arms, but even her gentle touch made him struggle not to cry out on pain. Sandy scooted his chair forward and reached for a trembling hand, holding it clasped between both of his own. "Squeeze my hand, Ryan. It will pass. We'll get you your medicine as soon as the bag is empty, okay? The pain will go away, I promise." He said softly, feeling the vice-like grip the teenager inflicted on his hand. Sandy clenched his jaw and rode it out with him.

After several agonizing moments, Ryan went limp in Kirsten's arms with a gasp, tears of pain streaming from the corners of his eyes. Gently she ran her fingers through his dampened hair. "Are you alright, sweetie?" She asked, blue eyes studying him worriedly. "Is there anything we can do? Anything we can get you?"

Ryan groaned in response. "How…much longer?" He panted, squeezing his eyes shut again.

"Ten minutes, tops." Sandy said encouragingly, stroking the boy's hand and wishing he could do more. The pain contorting the young face made his chest constrict. "Where does it hurt, kid? Can you tell me?" He asked gently.

Fighting back tears, Ryan swallowed hard. "My back…my neck." he moaned, gazing at Sandy with a tortured expression. But when Sandy reached out to gently touch the teenager's points of pain, it only made him whimper in response. Sandy drew back instantly. "I'm okay…I'll be okay." Ryan choked out, closing his eyes again and taking a couple deep breaths.

"Ryan, honey, drink some water." Kirsten encouraged softly as she held his head gently and brought a cup of water to his lips. "Dr. Collins is worried about you getting dehydrated."

After a few small sips, Ryan coughed and turned away. "Sick…" He said, the color leaving his face.

Reacting fast, Sandy reached for his foster son as carefully as he could and rolled him onto his side. But it didn't stop the sob of pain that followed, knocking the breath from Sandy's lungs and sending a knife to his heart. He held a bowl under Ryan's chin as he heaved, the action inflicting even more pain on his weakened body.

"Sandy…" Kirsten's soft voice called him. He looked up to see her staring, her eyes shining with concern. "You okay?" She whispered.

At first he didn't know what she meant. But then he felt the tears on his cheeks. Wiping them away with his sleeve, he gave her a jerky, silent nod. He rubbed Ryan's back, closed his eyes, and waited for it to be over.

* * *

Seth walked quickly into the foyer when he heard the keys enter the locks of the front door. Seconds later it swung open to bang against the wall as his mom and dad walked in with Ryan between them, looking night and day different from when Seth had seen him that morning, grinning at the breakfast table. This Ryan was deathly pale and shaking, barely standing with both his arms draped around Sandy and Kirsten's shoulders. His head was bowed, his eyes pained and vacant. The sight sent a shiver down Seth's spine.

Licking dry lips, Seth stepped forward. "Here…" he said, the sentence dying in his throat. "Let me…I'll help you." He stumbled over words, reaching for Ryan's right arm and allowing his mother to step away. Then he carefully wrapped a strong arm around his brother's thin waist, catching the hiss of pain and the brief contortion of his face. "Sorry." He mumbled apologetically.

"Get him upstairs." Kirsten said breathlessly as she hurried to close the door and fiddle with her purse, pulling out a brown paper bag. "I'll be up in a moment with his medicine." She shrugged off her jacket and jogged into the kitchen.

Somehow Seth and his dad managed to ease Ryan's stiff form up the stairs to the bedroom. He was silent, save for the pained breaths of air he sucked in like a drowning man, his eyes squeezed shut and an expression of suffering on his pale, drawn face. As they pushed open the door to the guestroom, Seth was overcome with a feeling of déjà vu. Hadn't they just been here? Hadn't this torture been over with almost a week ago? Then why were they back here again, and how was it somehow worse.

As they neared the bed, Ryan felt heavier in their arms, his legs suddenly folding under him as they struggled to settle him onto the mattress. "Easy, kid." Sandy soothed as they eased him into a sitting position against the high stack of pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. "We're home now. Everything is ok."

Seth helped fold back blankets, remove shoes, and replace the covers over the shuddering form. Ryan was restless, coughing weakly and swallowing painfully, his hands clutching at handfuls of sheet. Seth reached for the bucket now kept under the bedside table. "You need this, bud?" He asked gently, a reassuring hand falling on his friend's arm.

"He's been throwing up since we left the hospital." Sandy explained quietly, fixing pillows and reaching down to hold and still Ryan's fidgeting hand. He didn't meet Seth's eyes. "He's got nothing left…but he's still nauseous. And he's in a lot of pain"

Kirsten appeared at the doorway and walked quickly into the room. She pushed past Seth to sit down on the edge of the bed, her fingers carding through Ryan's sandy blonde hair. She handed him two small pills. "Here sweetie…this will help." She said to him softly, waiting for him to swallow them before tipping a glass of juice to his lips.

Sandy put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Dr. Collins said we should take his temperature, remember?" he reminded her gently as he stared down at Ryan, his eyes filled with worry. "We need to monitor the fever. I'll go get the thermometer." He suggested.

Seth watched his mom nod, not taking her eyes off her foster son as Sandy quickly left the room. Moments later she was reaching for the bucket as Ryan's stomach immediately rejected the pills and juice he had swallowed, his body shaking with each heave. "Oh, honey." She murmured, her voice fearful. All Kirsten could do was rub soothing, gentle circles on his back and whisper reassurances.

Swallowing hard, Seth watched his brother cough and struggle to breath. "W-what can I do?" He asked softly.

"He'll be okay." Kirsten replied after a moment, letting Seth take the bucket when Ryan finally relaxed against her. She stroked back his hair and watched as he closed his eyes, sighing exhaustedly in her arms. "Better, sweetheart?" She asked him gently.

They got a small nod in response.

The door creaked as Sandy walked in, a confused expression on his face as he walked to the bed to hand his wife the thermometer. "Kirsten, why is your father in the hallway?" He asked softly.

Seth gave his head a shake. "Oh yeah. Grandpa stopped by earlier, I forgot about him in the kitchen." He told his mother. "He said you were supposed to meet him here…says you have a really important meeting over budgets or something. I told him you guys were at the hospital with Ryan but he said he would wait here until you got home…" He didn't get a chance to finish before Kirsten stood up and walked out into the hallway. Seth got up to follow her.

"Dad? What are you doing here, I left a message at the office saying I wasn't coming." Seth walked out to find Kirsten facing a disgruntled Caleb Nichol with her hands on her hips.

Caleb shook his head. "Kiki, we said we would meet _here_ for the budget meeting…we worked it around _your _schedule because you didn't want to leave the boy." He said, his eyes cold. "I know you said before that his being sick wouldn't interfere with your job, but I'm beginning to lose faith in that statement." He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"That _boy _is my son, dad. He has cancer, he just had chemo this morning and I have to be here to take care of him." She growled, taking a step closer until they were inches away from one another. "I thought that after everything we've been through with mom you'd be bit more understanding. I guess I was wrong." Kirsten's voice was icy as she glared her father down.

With a wag of his finger, Caleb's voice boomed with anger. "Don't bring your mother into this! That boy isn't even your son, Kiki. He's a juvenile delinquent that your do-good husband brought into this house." His voice dropped and turned cold. "We had a deal, Kirsten. You said that this wouldn't intrude with your career."

Shaking her head, Kirsten stood her ground. "Forget it, dad. I'm not leaving him. Not today." Wrapping her arms around herself, Kirsten took a step back, pushing the hair behind her ears. "He's too sick." She said softly, painfully.

Heaving a sigh, Caleb was silent for a moment. "I expect to see you in the office tomorrow afternoon at the latest." He said darkly.

"We'll see, dad."

"Tomorrow." Caleb repeated, picking a piece of lint off the shoulder of his blazer. Then his voice lowered to a near whisper as he locked eyes with is daughter. "Or I will be forced to look into finding you a replacement."

Eyes flashing in shock and hurt, Kirsten looked as if she had been slapped. Swallowing hard, she stared into Caleb's cold blue eyes. "Y-you would fire me over this?" She asked in disbelief.

Caleb shrugged. "You leave me no other choice, Kiki." He sighed, and turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow." He said confidently. Then he noticed Seth behind her, and nodded towards his grandson. "Goodbye, Seth." With that, he was gone.

Staring at his mother's back, Seth watched as she stood rooted in place for several moments, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Then after a moment she turned, and her eyes landed on her son's. They stared at each other for several long moments, and Seth took in his mother's tear-filled blue orbs. Her expression was full of guilt and confusion as they stared at one another silently. Seth tried to read what she was thinking. Somehow he knew that at the latest time possible, tomorrow afternoon his mother would be in that Newport Group office, against her will and full of regret. She didn't have to say anything. He just knew.

And he wanted to hate her for it. He wanted to be mad, and tell her that she had a choice. But Seth realized that his mother knew the same thing that he did. If Kirsten didn't show up at work tomorrow, Ryan would never forgive her. And that was something she would not allow.

After a moment Kirsten looked away and her eyes wandered back to the guestroom door. She walked towards her son and stopped when she stood in front of him. Silently, Seth stepped back to grant her access, and she moved gracefully past him, pushing open the door and stepping inside. It closed softly behind her.

* * *

AN: Ahhh, emotions are raging…nothing is going right for anyone, is it? When it rains, it pours, I guess. Things are really going to take a turn for the worst soon…there is a MAJOR incident coming up in chapter…I believe 17. I can't wait to get to it. REVIEW! Cheers,

Vancouverite


	15. Gone

AN: Baaad author. Very bad. I've been extremely busy catching up on work and such, then I simply had to take a vacation. Sorry to those who thought I dropped off the face of the earth. My apology: two chapters rolled into one. It needed to be done so I can get this plot rolling…and so that my readers will forgive me, lol. I hope everyone likes it…it's intense, and long. Good combo. DEFINITELY read and review. If you don't, I'll die.

**FADING – Chapter Fifteen**

**Wednesday**

The phone rang on the bedside table beside him, and Ryan turned his head to glare at it. Absently, he wondered if he shot it a dangerous enough look it would stop ringing…but he guessed the chances of that happening were slim.

Not that he had been sleeping or anything. That was another story. It was the middle of the day, and sure, he was tired, but he couldn't sleep. His back hurt too much…no, make that his everything hurt too much. And as per usual the day after a chemo session, his stomach was waging a dangerous war that even his best attempt at a fight against the nausea was not proving strong enough.

Ryan continued to stare at the phone with a look of hatred as the rings reverberated off the guest room walls. It was the third time it had rung in the past hour or so, and he guessed who would be on the other end…or rather, the absence of who would be on the other end. Marissa's number kept flashing up on caller display, but each time Ryan had answered it previously, he was met with silence and her quiet, hitched breathing. Then a dial tone. So far her attempts at apology over the past couple days had fallen flat. It seemed like neither of them had any words left to offer.

After a moment the ringing did actually stop prematurely, and in Ryan's exhaust-clouded mind, he wondered briefly if his glare had actually taken on magical powers. But then he heard Sandy's voice float in through the partially opened door from his office down the hall as he greeted whoever was on the other end.

Shoot. The 'look' still only silenced Seth.

Sighing, Ryan curled up on his side and shivered, pulling the blankets up further around his shoulders. He was always cold, that was nothing new. He had started to get used to it. That and the way his hands shook, and to not take offence when the Cohens only filled his glass half full so that the shaking wouldn't cause any unfortunate spillage. He had learned that lesson the hard way with tea.

Light footsteps on carpet brought his attention to the door. He looked over his shoulder to see Sandy peeking in hesitantly. "Hey." He said hoarsely, and cleared his throat as he attempted to roll over and sit up.

"Oh, you're awake." Sandy approached with his usual hesitance and forced enthusiasm. Then he held up his hands. "Don't get up on my account." He protested as he neared the bed.

Ryan decided to take his word for it and collapsed weakly back into his pillows, running a trembling hand over his face. "Yeah, can't sleep." He gave a half-smile. If for no reason other than to put his foster father at ease.

Sandy nodded. He didn't have to say anything because he understood. And there was nothing he could do for him anyway. Ryan understood that. So Sandy settled for silently retrieving an amber pill bottle from the bedside table and shaking out two white capsules.

"Not for another twenty minutes." Ryan said reluctantly, glancing up at Sandy pleadingly.

Sandy frowned. "Kid, you can take them sooner than that. If the pain is really bad, don't let yourself suffer…"

"It's not that bad." Ryan protested, knowing how ridiculous he sounded. They'd had this argument often enough. "I can wait twenty minutes." He settled his shaking hands on the surface of the comforter, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.

Sandy's expression turned thoughtful, the pills still in his hand. "For reasons I can't disclose, I don't think this is about your pride anymore." He noted blandly, looking down at the small handful and rolling the capsules in his palm. Then he lifted his eyes back to Ryan's. "What is it that you're afraid of?"

Ryan glanced up sharply. "I'm not afraid." He snapped.

After a slight, tense pause, Sandy nodded and lowered his gaze. He knew he had overstepped the boundaries. "You try to get some rest." He said finally, and placed the two pills down on the nightstand beside an old glass of water. "I'm just down the hall."

"I know." Ryan replied evenly. Or maybe with a hint of annoyance. Either way, Sandy didn't let on that he heard.

Once he stood in the doorway, Sandy turned around. "Oh, that was Dr. Collins on the phone just now." He said softly, looking Ryan in the eye. "You have an appointment with him at the hospital tomorrow at two…he's going to run a sample of your blood and see how everything is progressing."

Ryan swallowed at the thought. Great, something else to worry about. He shifted on the bed as he felt Sandy's eyes still lingering on him from the door. Ryan didn't look at him. "Thanks." He said, and hoped it sounded dismissive.

From his peripheral vision, he saw Sandy look down at the floor. "You're welcome." He spoke quietly. Then he turned and left the room, careful to make sure that the door was left open half-way.

* * *

Summer giggled. "Cohen, aren't your parents home?" She asked in between kisses. Seth had pulled her by the hand up the front steps and into the foyer, hurriedly closing the door behind them and then proceeded to attack her mouth with a sly, Cohen-y grin.

Seth shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah…but like I care. You were so cute singing along to Death Cab in the car…I knew you would reform one day." He smirked, kissing her neck. "Now you are the perfect woman."

"I was _not _singing along. Ew. Death Cab? I mean, how much whining can fit into one song?" She laced her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back far enough so that she could see into his eyes. "Seriously Cohen, if your parents were to walk in right now, I would disembowel you." She assured him with a glare.

Waggling his eyebrows, Seth's grin grew wider. "I love it when you talk dirty to me." He drawled, leaning down to kiss her again. "Chill, would you? The parental units are nowhere to be seen, we're home free. No unlicensed surgeries necessary today, okay?" He said huskily, reaching up a hand to cup her face.

"Seth, that you?"

With a sigh, Seth rolled his eyes and stopped kissing Summer, looking towards the kitchen. "Yeah, dad." He called back, releasing his girlfriend and taking a step back. Summer pushed off the door and fixed her hair, pulling up a spaghetti strap that had slipped off her shoulder.

"Come in here a minute, would you?" Mr. Cohen's voice called again from the kitchen.

Shooting her an apologetic look, Summer allowed her boyfriend to take her by the hand and lead her towards the direction of Sandy's voice. When they entered the kitchen they found Seth's parents standing around the counter, sipping idly at glasses of white wine. "Yeah dad, what's up." Seth asked impatiently. Summer glanced at him when she detected the barely traceable venom in his voice. Seth had told her about the issues he'd had with his dad…well, with both his parents. Evidently he still wasn't letting them off so easily.

Sandy looked irked by his son's tone, but noticed that he wasn't alone, and smiled somewhat warmly. "Oh, hi, Summer."

"Hey Mr. Cohen. Mrs. Cohen." She gave a slight wave, and stood back slightly. She had immediately gotten the 'parent to son conversation' vibe, and knew that this was something that didn't concern her.

Kirsten smiled at her over the rim of her glass with a friendly expression. "Summer, I think that it's time you started calling us Sandy and Kirsten." She suggested gently. "You're really like part of the family, now…besides, Mrs. Cohen makes me feel so old." She cringed jokingly, and smiled again.

A bit taken aback, Summer grinned. "Sure thing Mrs…I mean, Kirsten." She corrected immediately.

She felt Seth drape an arm around her shoulders. "That was beyond important, don't get me wrong, but unless you have ridonkulously interesting news, Summer and I are going to retire to the living room." He told his parents, already pulling her towards the door. "I rented movies…a very stressful night awaits."

"I just wanted to ask if you'd see if Ryan wanted to join you." Sandy said quickly, before his son had a chance to slip out of the room. "We've been in to check on him a few times, and he's bored beyond belief. His…pain is pretty bad today, I don't think he can sleep. I thought spending some time with you two might help, maybe take his mind off of it." He suggested neutrally, though his voice pleaded gently. Even Summer could see the concern for his foster son in his eyes.

Seth nodded immediately. "Bored Ryan? Say no more. We'll go up and get him. I've got violent films to tickle his fancy." He said cheerfully, squeezing Summer's shoulder and turning them around in the direction they came.

"And Seth?" Sandy's voice called back from the kitchen.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Seth released Summer to turn back around, with a wordless, somewhat annoyed expression.

Sandy just looked thoughtful. "Thanks." He said seriously.

At that, Summer watched Seth's eyebrows knit together in a look of confusion and disbelief. He snorted, and gave a slight shake of his head. "What for?" He asked rhetorically, and then took Summer by the hand again to lead her away.

As Summer trailed after Seth's upbeat jog up the stairs, listening to him ramble about some gory horror movie involving the removal of limbs, she opened her mouth to say something about his parents. A part of her wanted to scold him for being so cold, that she understood how betrayed and annoyed he felt at them, but they were obviously trying, they didn't deserve his attitude. But the grin on his voice was so animated as they made their way down the hall to the guest room door, and she realized that she hadn't seen her boyfriend this happy in quite some time…not since before they had found out that Ryan had cancer. So she lost her nerve, and changed her mind.

They knocked and, without waiting for a reply, walked into the slightly darkened room. Only a lamp on the bedside table illuminated Ryan's new quarters. He was sitting upright in bed, propped up on a mound of pillows. When he noticed them, he turned his head and smiled. Summer found it strange and more than a little worrisome that he hadn't been doing…anything at all when they had walked in. Just staring at the wall.

"Hey man. I haven't seen you all day." Seth grinned, sauntering up to the side of the bed, clapping his brother gently on the shoulder, and proceeded to flop unceremoniously onto the foot of the bed, rolling around until he found a comfortable position. "You're looking better than yesterday. How're ya feelin'?" He asked.

Ryan smiled at his foster brother, and Summer felt her heart break a little. Ryan could try to avoid the Cohens well-meant concern all he wanted, but when Seth entered a room grinning like that, struggling so hard to be his usual Cohen-y amusing self, it didn't matter that Seth's voice was laced with hidden worry. Ryan's face would light up like a Christmas tree. Sure, some days nothing worked. Some days Ryan looked so sad and afraid that Summer wanted to hug him and wait for everything to get better, but Ryan would turn them away. But Seth tried so damned hard to do whatever he could to brighten his brother's mood, and most of the time, whether her boyfriend realized it or not, he was the only one that could actually do it. And it broke Summer's heart.

"I'm great, man." Ryan replied, nodding. "Hey, Summer." He smiled at her.

Summer ruffled his hair. "Lookin' good, Chino." She studied his face, and had to make sure that her smile and 'happy face' was securely in place. He didn't look great, but these days, Ryan never really did. He always looked as though the color had been drained from his face. Even his lips blended into his pale skin…his eyes were a muddy gray with dark circles surrounding them. He looked like a monochromatic drawing of himself. And ever since the chemo had started, he had slowly been losing weight. Summer didn't want to guess how much he had already dropped.

"So word on the street is that you're bored." Seth cut to the chase, settling onto his back and tilting his head until he could see an upside-down image of his brother. "That true?"

Ryan rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes." He huffed. "If I stay in this room any longer the next time I visit the hospital I'll be escorted in a straight jacket." He chuckled.

Summer flinched, and saw the grim look on Seth's face as he cleared his throat. "I think you need to ease up on the whole 'Ryan has a sense of humor' thing." He decided with a nod. "It's not working out so well for you." Seth snorted.

Ducking his head, Ryan's face reddened slightly. "Sorry." He murmured with a tentative smile. "Bad joke."

Summer tossed her hair. "Well anyway, Chino," she started, licking her lips as she prepared to pose the question they had initially come to ask. "Cohen has rented some cheesy horror flick. You game?" She asked.

"Hey, '_Saw_' is not cheesy, okay Summer?" Seth warned, his head snapping forward to glare at her. "Would you like to be put in the position where you'd possibly have to hack off your own leg? I think not." He scoffed, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms across his chest with an indignant expression.

Summer rolled her eyes and looked at Ryan. "Chino?"

Ryan smiled and pushed back his blankets. "Yeah." He agreed, and swung his legs over the side of the bed with a noticeable wince.

Without realizing it, Summer found herself holding her breath as she watched Ryan struggle to sit up all the way, his entire body tensed and his expression tight with pain as he eased himself to the edge of the mattress. She cast a sideways glance at her boyfriend and found him watching as well, now standing a mere foot from his brother, his eyes fixed on the struggling teenager as an nervous debate waged: to help, or not to help?

That was the question.

A moment later it was decided when Seth couldn't take being a bystander any longer. "Here, Ry." He said gently, and held out one hand.

A simple gesture, though small, Summer still caught Ryan glare hard at the outstretched hand with a look of barely masked anger.

But after a moment he reached out and held on, pulling himself up with one hand and pushing off the bed with the other. His face contorted in that small movement, and Ryan ducked his head, but Summer saw him bite his lip to keep back a cry. She'd seen him do it enough times now.

When she looked at Seth, his face was unreadable. He just watched his foster brother, not saying anything. But by the way his bicep was flexed, and the white-knuckle grip he had on his one-armed hold on Ryan's elbow, Summer knew that he was trying to inconspicuously take the brunt of Ryan's weight.

Once Ryan was more of less standing straight, Summer moved towards him and took Ryan's other hand as he swayed slightly before recovering his balance.

She had helped. But why did it always make her feel even more useless?

She needed to do more. For both of them. But soon they began walking out of the room and Ryan withdrew from their support as they headed down to the living room, walking single file.

* * *

"Psst. Cohen." A small whisper came from his left. Seth kept his eyes closed and turned his head to the right. Maybe if he ignored them, whoever it was would go away.

No such luck. A more insistent whisper hovered just at ear level, followed by a vicious poke to the arm. "Cohen! Wake up."

Seth swatted at the manicured hand, but opened his eyes and blinked a couple times. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light flickering off the TV he slowly made out Summer's shadowy figure beside him on the couch, staring at him insistently. "Whoa." Seth groaned, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I must be the first person to fall asleep during a movie with a chick that has her head in an explosive cage."

"Maybe the second." She replied.

"Huh?"

Summer pointed across Seth's chest and he turned his head to the left to see Ryan fast asleep beside him, curled up in an unnatural position that was going to suck ass when he woke up.

Seth's face fell and he nodded, moving to sit on the coffee table across from the couch, looking at Ryan's slack face in the darkened light. "I'm not surprised. He can never stay awake during a movie now." He said solemnly. Reaching out a hand, he gently placed in on Ryan's knee and shook him carefully. "Ryan? Ry…wake up, buddy."

Eyes snapping open, Ryan lifted his chin off his chest and straightened up in a fluid movement that made his eyes slam shut and a moan came from low in his throat that sounded more like a whimper. Seth wanted to cry right then and there from that sound. "You okay, man?" He asked worriedly.

Ryan didn't nod. "What…" His teeth were clenched. "…Time is it?"

Seth glanced at his watch. "Going on eleven." When he looked at Ryan again, his face was still ghostly white and his eyes were still closed. But he was giving off a very strong 'don't touch me' vibe. He turned to look at Summer. "What time do you have to be home? I can drive…"

He couldn't finish his train of thought because Ryan suddenly bolted from the couch. A moment later he heard the bathroom door bang shut. The remaining two shared a sigh in the darkness, sinking dejectedly back into the cushions of the couch.

Seth leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, burying his head in his hands. This was never going to end, was it? That was really starting to make itself a known thought in his mind. This wasn't the kind of problem that just went away with a bowl full of microwave popcorn and an entertainingly bad movie. This was something more, something no one was going to be able to fix in a matter of days, even weeks. Seth hadn't even realized it, but that was what he had allowed himself to believe. That soon, it would be over. But it wasn't. Not for a long shot.

He felt a hesitant hand rest on his shoulder as Summer leaned in towards him, her perfume assaulting his senses and making his chest hurt. "Seth…" She said gently, her tone worried. For him.

Guilt washed over like a wave, short but cold. He wasn't the one puking his guts up in the bathroom. "I'm okay." He stammered, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I should take you home."

"No." She said right away, her brown eyes tender as she studied his face. Her soft hand came up to rest on his arm, squeezing gently. "I want to stay here with you." She whispered.

Seth's mouth opened to protest. But he closed it again moments later. He wanted her to stay. He didn't want to go through this alone. Ryan shouldn't have to go through this alone. Why was it that he was still sitting on the couch? Without answering Summer, he stood and headed down the hall. He knew without turning back around that Summer was following. She always did.

Once he got to the closed door, he turned the handle to walk in, but paused just outside, and held it open just a crack. He turned to look at his girlfriend. "Maybe you should…"

"I'll wait out here." She interjected, and gave a weary half-smile, leaning against the wall.

Seth tried to smile back. "I love you."

She nodded. "I know."

Before he had time to ponder the _Star Wars_ Han and Leia reference, he pushed the bathroom door open and went inside. Ryan was standing a few feet away from the porcelain toilet, his face sweaty and grey. Panting slightly, he leaned against the wall at his back, eyes closed as he took in calculated breaths. Seth walked a little closer and grimaced, flushing the toilet and closing the lid.

"Why'd you come in here?" Ryan's weak voice snapped suddenly. His eyes remained closed.

Seth shrugged. "Why do you always ask that question?" He retorted, and backed up to sit on the counter, his fingers gripping the granite surface tightly. Steady, he told himself. Don't push it. Don't test him.

Ryan's cloudy blue eyes opened seemingly against their will and he glared daggers at his foster brother. "Can't you give me just a little bit of privacy?" He growled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I don't always need your help. I can take care of myself."

"Why? Why do you even want to, Ryan? I don't get it." Seth found himself saying, and was shocked. So much for not pushing it. "What is it that you're trying to prove, anyway? That you're a big, tough Chino kid that can handle anyone and anything? We already know that, man. You don't have to do this. You don't have to be the strong one right now." He was loud, he realized. Close to yelling. But suddenly he didn't care. Why hadn't this been said already? Why had it taken almost two weeks for this to come out?

Ryan was seething. Seething was a good way to put it. "Shut up, Seth." He snarled.

"Why, because I've hit a nerve? Why won't you let me help you, Ryan? Forget my parents for one second. Forget everything else." Seth didn't know where the words were originating from, but they just kept coming, and he didn't think he could stop himself. He didn't want to, either. He was getting somewhere. "Just tell me why you won't even let _me_ help. Like why you lie about being in pain, or why you prefer to nearly fall flat on your face instead of letting me help you when you're dizzy. What the hell is it that makes you think you're better than all that?"

Seth watched Ryan's face take on a look of panic. He looked around the room as if for means of escape, like a trapped animal. Then his breathing slowed and he raised dark eyes to Seth's face. "Because I'm not like you, Seth." He said, his voice almost at a whisper.

For a moment Seth felt a flash of pain. But the look in Ryan's eyes was pained, too. He looked guilty, and scared, and sad. And Seth just shook his head. "No. That's not it." He realized. "You're just trying to hurt me now."

Ryan looked away, but didn't say anything.

Seth knew he was right, and dropped his gaze to the floor as well. "It must be one hell of a reason, then." He noted quietly. "For you to go and say something like that."

They stood there silently for what felt like hours. All Seth could hear was Ryan's traumatized breathing and the thud of his own heartbeat. Just when Seth thought that he couldn't take it any longer, Ryan moved. He took very slow, deliberate steps towards the door and rested his hand on the knob. His head sort of half turned and his eyes traveled slowly to Seth's face. The look there was desperate, and nearly apologetic.

Seth felt his ribs squeeze his heart. He wanted to say something more. Anything…dear God, why now, of all times, had Seth Cohen run out of words? So with that, he watched Ryan turn and walk away.

* * *

The next night felt ridiculously weird to Ryan as they sat down at the immaculately set table in the champagne room for dinner; as if everything was perfectly normal. Sandy and Kirsten were forcing upbeat conversation that Seth sneered at. Maybe a matter of days ago he would have begged for this small amount of normality. As if this was any other cancer-free night. But now it just felt wrong.

For one thing, it felt bizarre not having Summer around. The past couple days she had been practically connected to Seth's hip. Not having her there tonight made everything all the more unnatural.

That and the fact that the Cohens kept casting him worried glances every once and awhile, as if regretting their decision to let him out of bed to eat a normal dinner as a family. Well, with the exception of Seth. His foster brother hadn't really wanted anything to do with him since their fight in the bathroom the night before. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire day.

He still hovered slightly, and asked the constant questions: "How are you feeling?", "Do you need anything?" That was still the same. But they were less frequent, and definitely not as sensitive. As Ryan had expected, Seth was giving up on him rather quickly. He knew it would only be a matter of time.

Also pushing around a plate full of rice and sipping at a glass of flat ginger ale didn't really help make the situation feel normal, while the rest of the family chowed down on Thai food. Not that they looked all that hungry, either. It seemed like everyone didn't have much of an appetite that night.

And finally, to add to the list of miseries that were making the night practically unbearable, was the fact that he had caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror today and had nearly keeled over right then and there. Today, he looked like hell, and he definitely wasn't the only one who had noticed. His skin was so pale it was scary. The dark circles under his eyes were almost comical. His face was sunken in an alarming amount. And to top it all off, the lights overhead the table were not exactly flattering. At least that partially explained the stares.

Oh yeah. And the doctor still hadn't called back with the blood analysis results.

"Ryan, did you take all your medicine?" Kirsten's voice asked kindly.

Taking a tentative bite of rice, Ryan glanced up at her and nodded. She had that uncomfortable look about her and he knew that she had only asked the question purely for something to say.

Seth's fork screeched across his plate. "He takes his meds at the same time every night, mom." He said, his voice monotonous. "You know that."

Kirsten blushed a little and swallowed contritely, picking at her food. "I was just asking, Seth." She told her son, giving him a warning look.

Seth just grunted in response.

"Alright, let's just try and enjoy our meal, okay?" Sandy suggested pleadingly, glancing between his son and wife. "We don't need the attitude Seth. We're trying to have a nice, normal family dinner. Let's just be positive." He smiled a little, as if he hoped his good mood would somehow rub off on the others.

Seth snorted, and Ryan looked at him from the corner of his eye. "That's a laugh, dad. Coming from you." He muttered under his breath.

Sandy looked surprised, and Ryan could just see a response working its way out his mouth. But he stopped himself, lowered his eyes, and started eating again.

Ryan couldn't believe his ears. He looked around the table, wondering who the hell these people were. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Was this really what he had done to this family? He put his fork down and stared at his plate. He seriously contemplated picking up his food and walking out of the room with nothing more of a response than "I'm going to find the real Cohens, wherever they hell they went", but he waited and tried to think of something less cutting.

Then the phone rang.

And suddenly all eyes were on him. And suddenly he didn't think he had the

strength to answer it. Did he even want to hear what Dr. Collins would have to say? What if it was bad news? He didn't think any of them could handle it if it was. And that would be all his fault.

Sandy's eyes met his from across the table, and Ryan silently pleaded with him to answer it for him. Not that Ryan deserved any favors from the Cohens, the way he'd been treating them lately. But he at least needed the time to work up the courage to hear whatever the doctor was going to tell him

Sandy wiped his mouth on his napkin and placed it on the table. "I'll get it."

Ryan found himself holding his breath as he listened to the phone beep on and Sandy's rushed "hello". They talked politely for a few minutes and Ryan tried to slow down his breathing. He knew Seth and Kirsten were watching him.

Kirsten's hand reached for his across the table. "Everything is going to be fine, sweetie." She said to him softly. "And if its not, we'll make it fine."

Ryan nodded, failed miserably at a smile, and looked up as Sandy approached, holding the phone out to him.

"It's Dr. Collins." He said, even though it was blatantly obvious who was on the other end. The Cohens had a thing for speaking when it was unnecessary these days.

Ryan nodded and swallowed, his heart pounding, as he reached out a shaking hand to take the phone. Once it was firmly in his grasp, he looked at it as if it were a foreign object. He felt Sandy's gaze on the top of his head, and then felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder. "It's okay, kid." He said gently.

So Ryan eased out from the table and stood carefully from his chair. Slowly, he walked to a corner of the room and faced away from the others. He wasn't alone, and yet he had privacy. At least they would pretend to not listen.

"Hello?" He said, his voice unsteady.

"Ryan? How are you, son? It's Dr. Collins." Gee, no kidding. What is it with these people?

Ryan cleared his throat. "I'm good." He said. A safe response.

"Glad to hear it." The doctor replied. Then he sighed, and Ryan could picture him taking off his glasses. Here we go. "Ryan, as they say in Hollywood, I'm going to cut to the chase. Your results were okay, but not great." He said evenly.

Swallowing hard, Ryan's brain fought to keep up. Okay? That was a good thing, right? Okay was better than bad. "Um, okay." Ryan mumbled. "What does that mean?"

"Well, your white blood cell count has gone down, but just a bit. With the amount of chemo we've been putting into your system…let's just say I was expecting something lower. Maybe much lower." He sounded disappointed, but not defeated. "Which could mean a variety of things. This is just the first week or so of treatment, after all. The effect it has on the cancer cells could easily change over time." He hurried to say.

Ryan closed his eyes. "But it could also mean that it's not working." He added, knowing that Dr. Collins would never admit it. At least not to him.

Dr. Collins sighed. "I…I guess so, Ryan." He said gently. "But I'm definitely not ready to believe that. It's way too early. Now, if you're up for it, and with the Cohen's consent, of course, I could increase your dosage, see if that has any noticeable change." He suggested.

Ryan found himself nodding. "Okay." He said. "Yes. Do it."

"I don't think I need to dwell on this, Ryan, but you do understand that it will be harder on your body, right?" Dr. Collins said carefully.

"I know." Ryan replied. How could he not know? Honestly, he didn't really care. Nothing could be that much worse than the way things were going right now.

Dr. Collins sounded pleased. "Okay. Then I guess I'll see you Friday, right?" He said cheerfully.

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, suddenly very tired. He closed his eyes and sighed. Today was Wednesday. Friday was just two days away. Two days until he was put through hell again. "Right." He sighed.

"Well I'll let you get back to your dinner, Ryan." The doctor said politely. "Take care of yourself son." A slight pause. "And don't let this get you down. It's just a minor setback. Not even a setback, really. Any progress is good progress. Okay?" He sounded worried now, genuinely concerned. Just like everyone else.

"Okay." Ryan responded. He opened his eyes. "See you Friday."

When he hung up the phone, the hushed voices of the Cohens behind his stopped abruptly, and Ryan had to wait until he found the courage to turn around and face them. He hoped that they had picked up on his tone and knew already that the news he was about to give them was not good. If he turned back around to find them staring at him hopefully, expectantly, he was sure he would break down right then and there.

Slowly turning around, he saw that Seth had left the table. Sandy remained sitting where he was and looked at Ryan with eyes full of sadness. But he tried to smile, anyway. Kirsten got up from her seat and crossed over to where he stood. She rubbed his arm gently, no visible worry or fear on her face. Unlike Sandy.

"It's no big deal, Ryan." She assured him, as if she already knew word for word what Dr. Collins had told him. "It's still early. It's too soon to tell if it's working or not."

Ryan nodded. "He said there was a small drop, so that's good." He said quietly. It seemed odd to him that those were the words coming out of his mouth, while his mind was going crazy with panic. It wasn't working. Of course this was happening. How much more shit could he possibly pile onto the load?

Kirsten nodded firmly. "That's right. Any progress is good progress." She said, parroting the exact words Dr. Collins had said on the phone.

Ryan bit his lip and nodded, looking at the floor. Kirsten wrapped her arms around him in a hug, but he suddenly couldn't bring himself to embrace her back. He stood stiffly until she pulled away, and then he looked at the table. "I'm going to…go back to bed." He said softly, hesitantly moving towards the door.

"But Ryan, you haven't finished your dinner." Sandy said, watching him with concern.

"I'm not hungry." He mumbled, and slowly walked towards the hall. Sandy and Kirsten didn't move from the spots he left them in, and he felt their eyes follow him all the way out of the room.

* * *

Thursday was a mostly a drag. Except for Summer, Seth realized. That part was good. He hadn't seen her since Tuesday, which…granted, wasn't really that long ago, but Seth had missed her more than he dared to say. He'd wanted her there when they'd gotten the news that the chemo wasn't yet having the desired effect. Yet. He'd wanted her there that night when he had cried harder than he had since he was seven when he fell off his skateboard for the first time.

Now it was evening once again, and as per usual, there was nothing to do. Bored and desperately channel surfing, he sat curled up on the couch with his girlfriend, trying not to think about the fact that Ryan had turned down their offer to join them, instead choosing to sit all alone in his room. Apparently the nerve Seth had hit two nights ago was a biggie. And it had definitely done some damage.

"Helloooo? Earth to Cohen?" He looked up to see Summer waving a hand in front of his face. "This is the most quiet I've seen you in like…ever." She said dramatically.

He gave her a weak smile.

Summer's face fell. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

Seth almost laughed. "Besides the obvious?" He said sarcastically.

"Cohen, Ryan will get over it. Chino can never stay mad at you for very long." She snorted, resting her flip-flop clad feet on the edge of the coffee table. "You just pissed him off and…he's being a baby."

His head snapping up to stare at her, Seth's eyes widened. "He's not…being a baby, Summer." He said, shaking his head, his tone disbelieving. Had he heard her correctly? "Did you even hear what I said to him? I was an ass, I…"

She nodded as if proving a point. "Now you're defending him?" She asked, cocking her head to one side. "On the phone yesterday you said you were pissed at Chino. Which one is it, Cohen? Can't be both." She smiled, pleased with herself, and stared at him as if expecting an answer.

Their staring contest came to an end when Sandy walked into the room, his hands intertwined in front of him nervously. "Hey guys, um…" He looked behind for a moment. His smile was forced. "We have a, uh…visitor."

Seth felt Summer tense beside him when Marissa rounded the corner with a tentative smile, her hands clutching her purse in front of her. "Hi, guys." She said nervously, taking a small step into the room. "I, um…" She stopped, and glanced behind her briefly, seeing that Sandy was still standing there watching, watching _her_. She gave him a contrite smile and looked at the floor.

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled, taking a few steps back. He looked at his son. "Seth, I'll, uh…just be upstairs if you…need me." Sandy stumbled, pointing down the hall.

Seth nodded and his dad reluctantly left the room.

Summer tore herself from Seth's side long enough to give her friend an uncomfortable hug. "Hey, Coop."

"Hi. Hey, Seth." She pulled away and put her purse on the coffee table, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and rested her eyes on her shoes. "Is Ryan around?" She asked softly.

"He's sleeping. It hasn't been a good couple of days." Seth said flatly, staring at her until she finally looked up. He studied her face slowly and took everything he saw into account. Her eyes were red and puffy, probably from crying. Her mascara was smudged. She certainly did look miserable, but Seth couldn't bring himself to feel an ounce of sympathy for her.

Marissa lowered her gaze again. "Oh." She whispered. Then, seemingly regaining her bravery, she rested her eyes on Seth again. "What happened?"

Seth couldn't remain sitting any longer. Impatiently, he got to his feet. "We got some bad news, and…you know what? No. You don't know because you haven't been here for him." He told her angrily. "You weren't worried about him before, why should you start now?"

"Seth…" Summer started.

He ignored her. "You know, your speech is a little slurred, Marissa. What _have_ you been doing?" Seth picked up her purse from the table and shook it near his ear. "Hmm, no sloshing this time, must have left the mickey at home, huh?" He challenged, thrusting the purse out to her.

Angry tears streamed down Marissa's face as she snatched back her bag. "I'm _not_…" She began to retort back, but stopped when she saw the disbelieving looks on her friends' faces. She wrapped her arms around herself and again looked at the floor.

Summer gasped softly. "Marissa?" She demanded softly.

Marissa wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry." She sobbed, her hand covering her mouth. After a moment she stopped and looked between Seth and Summer. "Please…can I just please see Ryan?" She pleaded with them, taking a step closer.

Seth looked down at Summer, who stared back at him. Gathering his courage, he returned his gaze back to Marissa. "No." He told her. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugged a little. "Sorry." He said honestly.

Biting her lip, Marissa nodded, more tears slipping down her cheeks. Clutching her bag, she tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to leave.

Standing rooted in place, Seth watched her until he heard the front door shut. He felt Summer stand and place herself beside him, her hands wrapped around his arm. She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. But she didn't say anything.

A hoarse voice came from behind them. "Thank you."

Seth and Summer spun around to see Ryan standing warily on the staircase, his exhausted blue eyes watching Seth's face. Seth broke away from Summer and took a few steps closer to the stairs. "Dude…" He began, unsure of what to say.

Ryan waved a hand. "It's okay." He replied. But Seth could see from where he was standing the tears in his foster brother's eyes. "Thanks." He murmured, and with a last fleeting look in his best friend's direction, he turned and headed in the direction he had come.

A chill ran over him and Seth heaved a tired sigh. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head to his chest and tried to calm down. God, he wanted to hit something right about then…

"Seth…" Summer appeared at his side again, her hand gently stroking his arm. "I'll go talk to him." She offered.

Seth looked up at her in surprise, but didn't have anything else to offer. He didn't see what harm it could do. If he went back up there the results, on the other hand, could be catastrophic. So he gave his girlfriend a beyond grateful smile, and nodded. "'Kay."

She smiled at him, gave his arm one last reassuring squeeze, and hurried up the stairs.

* * *

As Summer trotted up the last stair, she wondered briefly what she had gotten herself into. Chino wasn't going to want to talk to her, of all people. What would she even say? As she began to prepare a speech in her head, she slowed her stride as she walked down the carpeted hall, but screeched to a halt when she heard hushed voices coming from inside Ryan's guest room. Creeping closer, she rested just outside his door, and listened.

"…She's hurting, Ryan. She's a confused girl and this is the only way she knows how to handle it." Kirsten's gentle voice soothed. "She loves you, you know." She said, her voice softening.

Apparently Ryan hadn't been the only one eavesdropping

There was a pause. "I know." Chino's voice said, hesitant and dejected.

Summer peeked around the corner and looked into the dimly lit room. Ryan was in bed raised up on a mound of pillows. He looked really, really tired, Summer decided. And more than a little fed up. Kirsten was sitting on the bed, stroking back his hair, even though he flinched at her touch and eventually pulled away. Sandy stood on the opposite side of the mattress, his arms crossed in front of him, looking down at his foster son worriedly.

"You can't blame yourself for this, kid." Sandy said quietly, reaching down to place a strong hand on Ryan's shoulder. "She's not handling the situation well…Marissa never really does. But it doesn't mean that she doesn't care about you."

Ryan shook his head impatiently. "I'm not. Blaming myself, I mean." He heaved a sigh, resting his head back for a moment before looking up again, his eyes flashing between both Sandy and Kirsten. "Look, I said I was okay. I didn't ask you guys to come in here for the pep talk." He snapped suddenly.

Summer bit back her surprise as she watched the looks of shock ripple off Sandy and Kirsten's faces. "Ryan…" Kirsten began.

"Sorry." Ryan said immediately, closing his eyes, his expression full of guilt. "I don't know why…I…I'm just tired." He sighed, opening his eyes again and looking up at the Cohens nervously.

Sandy nodded and patted Ryan's shoulder. "Go to sleep, kid." He said, stepping back from the bed. "We'll mind the fort. We're just down the hall if you need us." He told the teenager with a small smile.

Kirsten clasped her hands in her lap and fidgeted for a moment. Then, hesitantly, she reached down and planted a kiss on Ryan's forehead. He didn't pull away. "Good night, honey." She whispered, her voice close to breaking.

As she heard footsteps approach, Summer quickly ran down the hall and ducked just inside the doorway of Seth's pitch black room. She held her breath and listened as the footsteps came outside the guestroom, the door was shut, and the steps neared her. Then they stopped again.

"You think he's going to be okay?" Sandy asked his wife gently, reaching out to wrap his arms around her.

Kirsten shook her head into his chest. "I don't know, Sandy." She replied honestly, her voice quavering.

Sandy looked down at her without pulling away. He swept a hand through her golden blonde hair. "Aw, honey, Ryan loves Marissa. He knows that she's just…taking all of this hard." He told her reassuringly. "He's just upset…we all are. But he'll be better in the morning. Yesterday was just a lot to take, and dealing with Marissa on top of all that couldn't have been easy…"

"I wasn't just talking about Marissa." Kirsten interrupted, pulling out of his embrace so that she could look him in the eye. "Have you seen him lately? Have you seen how he looks, how he acts…it's as if he's a completely different person, Sandy." She wrapped her arms around herself, her blue eyes filled with tears and looking hopeless.

Sandy stepped closer to her. "Kirsten…" He began. Then he lowered his voice. "You know you're only talking like this because of what Dr. Collins told us last night. Everything is going to be fine, you know."

A sob caught in Kirsten's throat and she shook her head. "He's pushing us away like he expects us to give up…it's almost like _he's_ giving up, and we're just a few weeks into this." She looked up at her husband as he wiped tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "He's not Ryan anymore, he…he's fading, Sandy. Right before our eyes and I feel like there's nothing we can do about it."

Summer felt her breath catch and stepped deeper into Seth's room as she the Cohens started walking again, passing by the doorway with their arms wrapped around one another. Once she was sure she was alone again, Summer leaned against the wall at her back and slid down until she sat on the floor. She wiped vainly at the tears in her eyes and stared into the darkness.

What was she going to tell Seth?

* * *

Seth reached past a perfectly formed red apple for a banana from the fruit bowl and started peeling it methodically. He didn't eat apples anymore. Apples were evil. Apples were what started this whole messed up chain of events from a cut finger to illness and a family he didn't even know anymore.

As far as he was concerned, apples were Satan's fruit.

It was Saturday, which was only a good thing because it wasn't Friday anymore. Because Friday, as any other chemo-session day did, had sucked a very large amount. When his parents had gotten back from the hospital with Ryan, they had announced that their foster son had a minor fever, and from there everyone just worked themselves into a frenzy. Granted, it was a low-grade fever, but because of the chemo sessions they were supposed to keep a close watch on Ryan because a little nothing flu could turn into a full blown disaster.

Seth hadn't been able to sleep that night. He had kept one ear trained on any movement coming from the guestroom, on any slight possibility that maybe, just maybe, Ryan might need something. Not, of course, that he would ever ask for it.

"Seth, can you hand me that document there on the counter?" his mom asked from her seat at the kitchen table. She had a several stacks and piles of paper surrounding her, a miniature model home to her left, and she was scribbling furiously on a notepad, not looking up as she spoke. Apparently Caleb had let her off for the weekend.

Taking a bite from his banana, Seth located the piece of paper she pointed to blindly and took it to her wordlessly.

Kirsten glanced up at him as it was transferred to her hand. "Thanks." She mumbled, returning to her work. Then she stopped herself, put down her pen, and folded her hands in front of her, looking at her son. "So. Are you seeing Summer today?" She asked conversationally.

Seth shook his head. "Her dad's back in town, so they're taking a little father-daughter time." He explained quickly.

His mother nodded. "Oh. That's good, she probably missed him. She's spent most of her time here for so long." A silence plagued them for a few long uncomfortable moments and she glanced around. "So…what are you going to do today? Maybe go sailing? It looks pretty windy out there." Kirsten noted, glancing out the kitchen window.

"Yeah, and pretty crappy, too." Seth added, finishing his banana and throwing the peel in the garbage. "It's all cloudy and yuck. And cold."

Kirsten snorted. "It's summer in California, Seth. It's never cold." When Seth didn't say anything, she nodded and picked up her pen again. "Okay. Well, you should go out and do something, anyway. You need to get out of the house." She said, cocking her head to one side. "You've been stuck in here for days." Her eyes were sympathetic.

With a slight roll of his eyes, Seth plunked down on a stool at the counter. "Yeah, well, so has Ryan." He muttered under his breath.

Her smile disappearing for a moment, Kirsten looked away. Then she nodded, and returned her gaze to her work. "Right." She replied.

Sandy entered the kitchen and made his way to the coffee pot, kissing his wife's cheek as he went. "I'll tell you, it's cold out there for July." Sandy said as he came into the kitchen, finger drying his hair which was still wet from his shower after surfing.

Seth shot his mother an 'I told you so' look,

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Sandy turned questioning eyes to his son. "Where's Ryan?" He asked curiously. "He wasn't in his room."

"Pool house." Seth said, getting up and walking to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of juice.

Sandy put down his coffee cup and stared at his son. "What?"

Seth shrugged. "Don't look at me. Mom said he could." He said, nodding towards Kirsten, now looking up at her husband guiltily from where she sat at the table. "Ryan came down here in a pissy mood and asked if he could move back into the pool house. Mom gave in." He explained quickly, sitting back down at the counter.

"Seth, don't say 'pissy'." Kirsten chided from her seat.

Sandy walked towards her and rested his hands on the back of a chair. "You let him move back into the pool house? Kirsten…why?" he asked, confused. "We just brought him home from the hospital. He had a fever, he shouldn't be far away." He reasoned, agitated.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Kirsten sat back in her seat and avoided her husband's gaze. "I know…but he was just so…upset." She said, struggling for words. Her eyes wandered out across the patio as she gazed in the windows of the pool house. Inside she could make out Ryan's figure on the bed. "I couldn't say no. He wanted his privacy. And it is his room, after all. Who are we to say whether or not he's allowed to stay there?"

Sandy sighed and raked a hand through his unruly dark hair. "He was in a bad mood?" he asked finally.

"Dad, these days, when is he not?" Seth scoffed.

Another sigh, and Sandy turned to face his son. "Seth...would you go check on him, please?" He asked, his voice controlled. "Make sure he has everything he needs. His meds, enough blankets, something to drink in the fridge…"

Seth nodded. "I'm on it." He replied, and scooted off his chair, marching to the kitchen doors. Outside he closed the door behind him, resting his hand on the knob as he watched his parents begin to fight. Sighing, he shivered as a cold breeze blew past and he looked up at the dark grey clouds swirling around above.

Great, he thought to himself. Could this day _get _any better?

Wrapping his arms around himself and pulling his hands into the sleeves of his sweater, he jogged across the patio to the door of the pool house and hesitated only briefly before knocking and stepping inside.

"Sweet Moses, it's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there." He exclaimed as he shivered dramatically, shutting the door quickly behind him and stepping further into the room. Ryan was seated on the edge of the bed in his sweats, the blankets and covers rumpled from tossing and turning. From where he sat on the bed, Ryan was glaring at him. "What's up, dude?" Seth asked casually.

Ryan sighed. "The point of moving out here was so that I could get some privacy, remember?" He said darkly, his blue eyes almost as grey and cloudy as it was outside.

Seth forced himself not to lose his cool. Think like a cucumber, he told himself in earnest. "Chill, man. Dad just sent me out here to make sure you have all the necessary accoutrements. You know, food, drink…"

"I've got everything I need, Seth." Ryan cut in between clenched teeth.

Nodding, Seth thought about turning to go. "Okay, that's cool. Just checking." He studied Ryan's rigid posture and took in his paler than usual face and clenched fists against the mattress. "Hey…you okay, man?" He asked, worry creeping into his voice.

Ryan gave a jerky nod. "I'm fine, Seth." He growled, and then eased closer to the edge of the bed and struggled to push himself into a standing position. His knees were shaking so much that Seth could see the tremors from where he stood by the door. Ryan's eyes remained shut and he swayed, coming too close to falling over.

Seth leapt down the small flight of stairs and hopped across the bed to the other side, standing beside his foster brother and placing steadying hands on either arm. "Whoa, there, bro." He said, eyebrows knit together in concern. "Talk to me, Ryan. What's wrong? Should I go get my parents?" he asked gently.

"I'm just...dizzy." Ryan replied, his eyes still closed. "I'll be fine."

Shaking his head, Seth gripped Ryan's arm more tightly and tried to convince him to sit back down. "Ry, you're scaring me, here." He began worriedly. "Where are you even going, man? Would you sit for a minute, please?" he begged, trying to push him into a sitting position.

Ryan pushed him with more strength than Seth thought he had. "No, Seth! Look, would you just…" his voice tapered off and he took an unsteady step back and shook his head, as if clearing his it. "Would you just leave me alone?" he growled, staring at his feet.

Seth felt anger boiling back into his system, and he could no longer control it. Accusingly, he pointed a finger at his brother's chest. "You can't even look at me when you say that." He all but shouted. "What the hell is the matter with you, Ryan?" he asked, his voice almost begging.

Now Ryan looked at him. "Seth…"

"You can't walk away this time, because there's nowhere to go." Seth challenged, taking a step closer, looking him squarely in the eye. "If you think you're so tough then its time to be a man. Tell me to my face why you don't want my help. Why you don't want my parents help." He demanded, his heart hammering in his ears. He could feel the blood pounded through his veins.

Ryan stared at him for several long moments, and Seth waited patiently. Finally, his mouth opened, but just as he was about to speak the door to the pool house swung open and Sandy stepped inside.

"What's going on in here?" He asked, looking between his two sons in confusion. "We could hear you yelling all the way from inside." He closed the door when he saw Ryan shiver at the breeze that swept in. "Ryan…are you okay, kid?" He asked, seeing the distressed look on the teenager's face.

Ryan swallowed hard. "Fine."

Seth rolled his eyes and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Big surprise there." He muttered angrily.

Sandy stepped further into the room. "What's going on?" He demanded again, his voice concerned. "Seth?"

But Seth's eyes were still trained on Ryan. His brother was standing rooted in the same spot he had been in for the past two minutes, his face completely devoid of color. He blinked his eyes as if trying to clear his vision. He still swayed on his feet. Seth sighed. "Ryan, would you sit down before you fall down?" He pleaded tiredly.

Ryan shook his head. "No." He said lowly.

Soon Sandy was standing beside his foster son, studying his face worriedly. "Ryan…I don't know what just happened in here, but he's right. You need to sit down." Sandy said, gently resting a hand across the boy's back. "You don't look good. Come on, please sit…"

Throwing the hand off his back, Ryan stepped away and glared at Sandy, blue eyes flashing. He looked trapped. "No! What do I have to do to make you understand? I don't want to sit, I don't want to talk, I don't want your help!" he shouted, his voice sounding slightly strangled. "I just want to be left alone." He said, quieter.

If Sandy was at all surprised by the outburst, it didn't register on his face. "Well that's too bad, Ryan." He said slowly. "Because whether or not you want to admit it, you _need_ our help. You _can't_ do this alone."

Seth watched Ryan shake his head desperately. "No." He whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

"Ryan…" Sandy began, reaching out to his foster son.

Ryan tore away again. "No! Don't." He wrapped his arms around himself and stepped back. "Please…don't." He said again, his tone heartbreaking. But he still held back the tears.

Sandy asked the question before it even registered in Seth's mind. "Why, Ryan?" His dad asked softly, cautiously. He didn't touch Ryan, but he stepped closer. Ryan only took a slight step back. "Just tell me why."

"Because…" Ryan began, somehow holding on to his last shred of composure. "Because if…if I let you help me, I won't….I'll get used to it, and…and I can't afford to do that." He insisted, as if persuading himself as he talked.

Seth couldn't believe his ears. "Why not?" He found himself asking, his voice sounding foreign to his ears.

Ryan's mouth opened and closed again, and he lowered his eyes and shook his head, biting his lip.

"You think we'll leave you." Sandy realized aloud. Seth's head snapped up to stare at his father, and then at Ryan. His best friend looked surprised, but didn't deny it. He looked away. Sandy pressed on. "You think we'll get sick of you, that eventually we'll desert you like…like your mom did." He said softly, his voice rough with emotion. Seth could see his father barely holding back tears.

Ryan took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, wrapping his arms more tightly around himself. "Like everyone else does." He whispered.

Sandy shook his head. "Oh, Ryan…" he began, unsure of what to say. "How can I make you believe…? Ryan, that will never, ever happen." He said, pleading, as he stepped closer to the teenager and reached out a hand to him again.

Ryan didn't say anything as he took another step back.

Heaving a sigh, Sandy nodded slightly and stepped away as well. "Okay. I know you don't want to believe me right now. You need your space, I understand that." He said softly. "But when you're ready to talk, you know where to find us. Because, Ryan, we'll always be here for you, kid. We love you. We're not going to let anything happen to you." His voice cracked, but Sandy stayed strong. He swallowed and turned to look at Seth. "We should go…he needs his rest."

Seth had a hard time tearing his eyes away from Ryan's face. He didn't like what he saw there. His expression was hollow, his eyes overly bright and his cheeks slightly flushed for the first time in…ever. He looked scared.

And it scared Seth.

"Come on." He allowed his dad to take him by the elbow and pull him to his feet. Then together they slowly walked towards the door and out into the cold, blowing wind. When he turned back to look just once through the pool house windows, Ryan was still standing in the corner, his arms wrapped tightly around his body.

* * *

Ryan couldn't move. The things Sandy said…none of it could be true. He couldn't let himself believe it. He'd done that before. His mom…she had said she'd changed. That she loved him and she wasn't going to lose him again.

But she did.

Why should the Cohens be any different? His cancer was already pushing the family in all different directions. It was only a matter of time before they realized who was to blame. He had to make them realize that.

Shivering suddenly as a chill wracked his thin frame, Ryan finally released his arms from around himself and zipped up his hoodie higher. Finally he forced his legs to move. He walked to the door and pulled it open, stepping out onto the patio. The wind was cold and it blew his hair into his eyes, but he could see the Cohens standing around the kitchen counter through the window, talking animatedly.

Talking about him.

Turning away, he started walking. He didn't know where he was going, and it didn't matter. He had to push further away.

He had to make them understand.

* * *

Kirsten stared at her husband and son as she felt tears prick her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last couple days. "He thinks we'll…leave him?" She said, her hand covering her mouth.

Sandy gave a jerky nod. "I don't…I don't know how we didn't see this. How long has this been going on?" He asked himself, running a weary hand over his face, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter.

"Forever." Seth sighed, staring at the granite counter top from his stool.

His mom dried her eyes. "Well…what are we going to do?" She asked determinedly. "We have to make him realize that we want him here. He has to understand how much we love him, that he's a part of this family now. And that will never change." She said emphatically, shaking her head.

Sandy moved to stand behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Honey, I think enough words have been said for awhile. If we keep pushing him, he's just going to get further and further away." He explained, his voice sounding exhausted. "Right now what he needs is some space. And some time to think. If we go in there now he'll never listen. He's backed himself into a corner. We could lose him forever." He sighed again, squeezing his wife's shoulder.

"I need to go see if he's okay." Kirsten insisted, pulling away from his touch and walking to the French doors.

"Kirsten…" Sandy began.

"I'll be right back, I promise." She begged. "But I have to make sure he's okay." She demanded, her blue eyes flashing as she dared him to say anything otherwise.

After a moment and a final sigh, Sandy nodded. "Okay." He said.

When the doors shut, Seth looked up at his dad with a sarcastic smile. "Well," he muttered. "That went well." he gave a snort, staring out at the white caps roiling off the grey ocean.

"I can't believe…that's how he feels." Sandy said, staring off into space, his voice sad and despondent.

"Yeah, well…" Seth shrugged. "We'll fix it." He said with a hopeful look directed towards his father.

Sandy's eyes traveled down to his, and he smiled briefly. "You're right." He said, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "When did you get to be so smart?" He asked rhetorically.

Just as Seth opened his mouth to offer a witty response, the kitchen doors burst open and a very pale Kirsten came inside. "Sandy…" She said, her voice breathless.

Walking quickly towards her, Sandy put his hands on her arms, steadying her, and looked into her eyes. "What is it?" he asked instantly, and then his eyes widened. "Is Ryan okay?" He demanded next.

Kirsten shook her head numbly, her lower lip trembling. "He's gone, Sandy." She said, her voice almost a whisper. "He's gone."

TBC

* * *

AN: I know I'm evil. Review and I'll write faster. Hope you liked it. Cheers!

-Vancouverite


	16. Seventy Eight Minutes

AN: Ha ha, success! A chapter up no more than a week or so…pretty good, by my own standards. Thanks for the glorious reviews, especially Beachtree – felt like old times there. And Nina, your review left me giggling…I can't tell you how many times I've done that to myself…come across a story and ended staying awake into the wee hours to read. It makes me beam that this story actually does that for someone. And as for the "review whore" comment I got – and did not appreciate one bit – I will not say anything further…except that words like that are not in the slightest bit useful, nor intelligent. ANYWAY, read on. And enjoy!

**FADING – Chapter Sixteen**

**Saturday**

Sandy felt his heart fall to the pit of his stomach, his chest caving in as panic flooded through his system. Staring into his wife's devastated blue eyes, he clutched her shoulders tighter and forced air into his lungs, just so that he could stammer out one word. "What?" He said, his voice a near whisper.

Somehow, Kirsten managed to nod. "The pool house is empty…the door was open when I got there…" She stuttered helplessly as Seth shot out of his seat, leaving the stool teetering in his wake as he sprinted across the patio, his sneakers pounding across the cement. "He left, Sandy…" Her voice sounded haunted.

"Seth, go check every room! Check the front, see if he came around the side of the house!" Sandy shouted, even though it was obvious that was exactly what his son was in the process of doing. He let go of Kirsten long enough to run out to the driveway, dragging a trembling hand through his hair. The cars were both still there. Why were the cars still there?

Kirsten came up behind him, her arms wrapped around her midsection as her eyes began to fill with tears. "He didn't take any keys with him…his coat is still hanging in the closet, Sandy." Her voice cracked and broke as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

Running down to the end of the drive, Sandy looked down both ends of the street. No one was in sight. "God damn it." He murmured under his breath, turning and jogging back up to the house.

Seth met him halfway, out of breath, his face pale and eyes wide. "I checked everywhere." He gasped.

"He's nowhere in the house?" Sandy demanded, even though he knew it was pointless.

His son shook his head. "Uh uh." He replied immediately. Seth swallowed hard and tried to catch his breath and not look too scared. "What now, dad?" He asked fearfully.

Kirsten and Seth were both looking to him. He had to be in control. Dear God, give him the strength to not fall to pieces right here in front of them. He took a deep breath. "Okay…Seth, call Summer, call Luke…call Marissa. Get them to phone us right away if he shows up…have them out looking for him if they can." He said, thinking as he went. Seth nodded and turned to run into the house. Next he turned to his wife. She was still shaking. "Kirsten, go inside and get a coat. Seth can stay here in case Ryan comes back. We'll get in the car and won't come back until we've found him. How far could he have gotten?" He tried to hold his hands still, but it wasn't working.

"Sandy…" Kirsten's frightened voice came from beside him. He turned to see her still standing there, her arms shaking as she hugged herself. Her blue eyes were wide and scared. "He's out there all alone…it's cold and windy. What if…what if he's sick, or…"

Stepping towards her, Sandy wrapped his arms around her tightly and breathed into her hair, trying to still his heart. "We're going to find him." He said confidently. "I promise."

He felt a small nod against his chest and allowed himself to let her go. Then he spun on his heel and walked quickly back into the house collecting keys, pocketing a cell phone and snatching up a jacket as he went. Seth came running into the room, breathless. "Anything?" Sandy asked hopefully.

Seth shook his head. "Luke and Summer are out looking for him. They haven't seen or heard from him…Marissa's not at her dad's." He said, watching as his father started back for the door. "Where are you going?"

"To find Ryan." Sandy answered simply, hastily pulling on his coat and not bothering to zip it up. Then he pointed at his son. "You stay here. The second you hear anything, you call me, alright?" He demanded, holding out his cell phone and pointing to it emphatically.

With a nod, Seth swallowed and looked into his father's eyes. "Yeah, you too." He said. Then he hesitated. "Dad…" He began.

Impulsively, Sandy reached out and wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders, squeezing him hard and pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple. "We'll find him." He whispered, and then let go. Without another word, he dashed out the door and headed towards the Range Rover. Kirsten was already seated rigidly in the passenger seat.

That was the second time he had made that promise in the last sixty-seconds. He wasn't about to break it.

* * *

Marissa quietly stepped out the side door of the mansion she had come to hate, looking up through the windows to make sure that no one was watching her leave. Her mother had been bugging her all day to go shopping, and she couldn't think of anything she wanted to do less. Shuffling across the lawn and veranda, she walked quickly down the steps that led to the private beach entrance and stopped briefly to take off her flip flops, holding them in her hand. The sand was cold underneath her feet, but she didn't really care. It felt good to feel the breeze against her face, even if it was unusually cool.

She started walking west, the wind blowing towards her and pushing her long brown hair away from her face. Her mother had finally won a long-dreaded argument and Marissa was forced to spend the weekend in her old house. Normally that wouldn't be such a catastrophe because it meant that she could spend the days right next door to Ryan. But after the way she had messed things up – twice – that wasn't exactly an option.

As she passed the Cohen house she stopped for a moment and felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was quiet and only one car was in the driveway. She could just make out the lights on in the pool house and squinted to be able to see inside, but she couldn't see any movement from within. Sighing, she changed direction and continued on down the strip of beach.

She missed Ryan so much it hurt. It ached her to think of what she had done to him…how she had embarrassed herself, embarrassed him…it had taken forever just to work up the nerve to go back over there and try to apologize. Not that she deserved to be forgiven. Drinking seemed to be the only way to help ease the pain, and she had foolishly let herself fall into that familiar downward spiral. Even when she had wanted to see him again, just to say she was sorry, and that she loved him, she hadn't been able to resist one small drink to help make it easier; number. And as she had expected, Seth had turned her away.

She didn't blame him.

Staring out at the ocean as the waves crashed in against the shore, Marissa shivered and pulled her sweatshirt around herself more tightly. The sky was dark and cloudy, reflecting off the ocean and making its usually bright blue color a murky grey. Even if it was cold and windy, she had to admit, it had a certain beauty to it. It was peaceful.

Marissa stopped walking and found a dry, deserted log washed up on the shore. Tucking her feet up underneath her body, she sank down into the sand and let her beach bag fall beside her. Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment and let the salty air blow past her face. She just needed some time to think.

After a moment of hesitation, she reached over and pulled a small bottle of vodka from her bag and held its weight in her hands. Then she looked back out at the ocean and felt tears building behind her eyes. God, she wanted Ryan beside her right now. She was so worried about him, so scared that her stomach tightened every time his face appeared in her mind. She suddenly found her fingers unscrewing the cap of the bottle and brought it to her lips, swallowing a mouthful of the pungent liquid.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Marissa squeezed her eyes shut as more tears slipped down her cheeks. This was what she had become. She was sitting here on the beach all alone, drinking straight vodka instead of taking care of her sick boyfriend. The thought made her face flush with anger. What the hell was wrong with her?

Rushing to her feet, Marissa gripped the bottle by the neck tightly in her hand and threw it with a scream as hard as she could into the raging waves. She watched it splash into the water and disappear.

After a long moment she turned back around, wiping tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. As she looked back towards the direction of her house, something caught her eye. There on the beach, a good thirty feet away was someone walking towards her. She was sure her eyes were playing tricks on her when she struggled to identify their face. She squinted and took a few steps closer, and immediately felt the air rush out of her lungs. There was no way she could deny it.

Ryan.

Lurching forward, Marissa stomped through the sand as fast as her numb legs would carry her until she was beside him. "Ryan." She gasped, her voice soft over the waves. But he heard her anyway and looked up, as if shocked by her presence. The moment he lifted his head, Marissa's worry mounted. He was pale, too pale. His eyes were dark, but seemed unusually bright against his skin. His hair was slightly damp, plastered against his face as he looked at her wearily from beneath his bangs.

He saw her, but it was like he looked right through her. Then after a moment he lowered his eyes and started walking again, ignoring her.

It didn't take much to keep up with him. His bare feet dragged through the damp sand, occasionally catching on the wet cuffs of his sweatpants. "Ryan, what are you doing out here?" She asked worriedly, resting a hand on his shoulder. When he didn't say anything more, Marissa swallowed and studied his face more intently. He was scaring her. "Do the Cohens know where you are?"

That made him pause, his eyes flickering in recognition for a moment. "No." He mumbled, still walking. "Better that way." His weak voice was almost a whisper.

Marissa's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked. But he ignored her again. She reached out to take his hand to stop him, and gasped at the contact with his skin. "You're freezing." She whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. She felt him shivering against her

He was stiff under her arm, but he didn't pull away. "What are you doing here?" He asked suddenly, his eyes still following the sand in front of them.

"I'm staying at my mom's for the weekend." She replied distractedly. She had to figure out what to do. She didn't know why he was out wandering on the beach alone, without shoes, without a proper coat, but she knew for sure that he didn't look well at all. She had to get him back to the Cohens. "Ryan, you need to go home." She urged gently.

Ryan shook his head slowly. "I can't." He said, his voice soft, his eyes gazing out onto the ocean. "I have to make them understand."

Marissa wasn't sure if she heard him right. She had no idea what he was talking about, but a tight, uncomfortable feeling of fear was slowly building in her stomach. "Make them understand what?" She asked.

"That I don't need help." He murmured, and coughed. His voice was starting to sound raspy and tired. She could see plainly with her own eyes that he was rapidly losing strength. "That I can take care of myself."

Thinking fast, Marissa hugged him tighter and stopped him from walking. "Ryan, they know that." She told him, glancing around herself wearily. It was a good ten minutes back towards home, if they walked at the same clip she had started out with…but looking at Ryan now, she knew they were going to take longer than that. She had to get them turned around. "Come on, let's go. It's cold out here." She took off her dad's old USC sweatshirt and struggled to guide Ryan's arms through the sleeves, trying not to think about why, all of a sudden, it was small enough to fit him.

"No." Ryan persisted, pulling away with one hand through the sweater. "I can't go back. I can't, Marissa…" His voice climbed higher and his face crumpled, close to breaking down into tears.

Marissa was shocked by his reaction. She'd never seen him lose it like this before. "Hey, hey. Ryan, it's okay." She soothed, walking carefully towards him and wrapping her arms around his back, desperately trying to calm him down, and share some of her warmth with him at the same time. "We don't have to go back, okay? We'll just finish our walk and we can talk about it. How does that sound?" She asked him gently as he silently allowed her to draw his other arm through the final sleeve.

He didn't say anything, but after a moment he nodded hesitantly.

Marissa managed a smile. "Okay, good." She said, swallowing back her fear as she tightened her grip around his shoulders and turned him around. "But let's walk in this direction, okay? That way the wind won't be so cold." She thought quickly, and pointed them in the direction of home.

Ryan didn't say anything and allowed her to lead him back the way they'd come, the dark grey skies swirling above them, the wind screaming past their ears, and the ocean crashing angrily against the shore.

* * *

Staring at the half-empty, perpetually soggy bowl of cereal left out on the kitchen table, Seth sighed heavily and pushed it away from himself with a lip curled in disgust. He couldn't eat right now. He couldn't even _think_ about eating right now. Not while his stomach was wound up tighter than a drum.

Taking a couple steadying deep breaths, he looked down at the phone in his hand as if to make sure that it was still there, and still hadn't rung yet. It was exactly seventy-eight minutes past the time his mom had discovered that Ryan had gone missing from the pool house and they still hadn't found him yet. Seventy-eight minutes of Ryan wandering God knows where, probably cold, alone, and sick…

When his eyes began to burn and panic crept up into his throat, Seth pushed the thought out of his mind and squeezed the phone harder. No, he couldn't think like that. They would find Ryan. His dad had promised.

But why hadn't they called yet?

Hastily, he pulled away from the table and stood, taking his soggy cereal bowl in one hand and the phone still clenched in the other. He wandered aimlessly to the sink and turned on the tap with his elbow, dumping the now sugar-filled milk down the drain, along with the saturated cereal and letting the water rinse away the excess grime. Sighing, he began to think that perhaps voluntarily staying at home to 'wait Ryan out' hadn't been the brightest of choices. He should have argued with his dad, demanded that he come on the search, too. Seth Cohen wasn't designed for waiting. At least not under these circumstances.

As he set the bowl in the sink and started to rinse his spoon, he looked up as he saw something moving out the window from the corner of his eye. Glancing up, he did a double take and felt his jaw drop open.

Marissa Cooper was walking across his patio, her arms wrapped tightly around a barely upright Ryan. At least he thought that person had to be Ryan. It was hard to tell. He looked…barely alive.

Staring wide-eyed out the window, Seth dropped the phone into the sink and started running towards the door. "Shit!" He cursed, spun around with a screech, and retrieved the phone from the sink, slipping it instead in the pocket. Then he started running again, throwing open the kitchen doors and sprinting around the pool until he was beside them.

"Seth!" Marissa exclaimed when she saw him. She looked relieved, and at the same time her eyes filled with tears that she had obviously been holding back. "I don't know…why was he…he's sick, Seth, he needs to be inside…"

Gripping Ryan's other arm, Seth held his brother steady and directed them all back towards the kitchen. "Marissa." He said sharply, silencing her. "Where was he? Where did you find him?" He demanded, his eyes fixed on the doorway to the kitchen, his current objective. Everything else he'd worry about after. Right now he had to focus on getting Ryan into the house. Where it was warm.

"Walking on the beach, a little ways past my house." She explained, trying to be helpful. She flinched and blinked, and at first Seth could have sworn that this whole catastrophe had caused Marissa do develop a nervous tick, but then a drop of rain fell in his eye and he found himself doing the same thing. Shit.

Ryan was being too quiet. "Ry, say something to me, man." Seth instructed sternly, his voice quavering. "Tell me you're okay." Light rain was beginning to spot the surface of the patio, slowly dampening the top of Seth's head. For once, he didn't even think twice about his Jew fro.

They finally got inside the house when Ryan turned his head to look at Seth, as if noticing that he was there for the first time. "Seth…?" He began, his expression clouded and confused.

"Right on the first try, dude." Seth remarked, feeling Ryan's weight begin to get heavier and heavier on his side. He didn't know where he was going exactly, but his feet kept moving and didn't stop until they reached the living room. At which point both his and Marissa's grips were exhausted, and they all but dropped Ryan onto the safety of the couch.

Ryan was shaking his head weakly, blinking in confusion. "No…" he mumbled restlessly. "I can't be here…I have to go."

No sooner than Seth saw his brother try to push up off the couch did he have a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping his movements and pushing him back down. "Ryan, no." he said gently, noticing absently that Marissa had disappeared from the room. "I think you've had enough roaming for one day, Columbus. What were you doing out of your room, man? My parents freaked, we didn't know where you were…" he rambled, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table.

"I have to go, Seth." Ryan repeated softly, his eyes exhausted, but begging. He slumped against the cushions of the couch and made no further attempts to get up. But his pleading blue eyes stared into Seth's soul and made his heart break.

Seth sighed. "Ryan…" he began, unsure of what to say. "Where are you gonna go, man?" he challenged gently. _Keep him talking_, Seth told himself. _Keep him calm. Get that flighty look out of his eyes._

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them again they were filled with tears. He coughed and wordlessly looked away.

"My parents are worried about you, Ryan. They're freaking out, my mom was ready have a nervous breakdown when she realized you were gone…"

"No…" Ryan's broken voice interrupted. He didn't look Seth in the eye. He just stared at his hands and shook his head.

Ryan didn't have to say it. Seth understood that his foster brother still didn't believe him. "Ry…" He began, craning his neck to desperately meet the other boy's lowered gaze. "They're out looking for you, man. Right now, driving around like maniacs. My dad's probably tearing around corners and my mom is most likely too worried about you to be the backseat driver that she normally is." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Closing his eyes again, Ryan shuddered and ducked his head further.

"Ryan…" Seth began for the third time, the name slowly losing its purpose and meaning. His foster brother didn't speak, didn't look up, and didn't seem to want to listen. When Ryan coughed again, his blue eyes filled with tears, Seth found himself reaching for a slack, cold hand, holding it firmly in his own. The contact with his brother's skin made him shiver. "You're freezing, man." He whispered in realization.

"I know…he was like that when I found him." Marissa's voice announced as she re-entered the room, her face nearly completely hidden behind the piles of blankets she was holding. "I don't know how long he was out there."

Seth helped her wrap the cushiony duvets around Ryan's shivering form. He frowned. "Long enough." He muttered, unable to push aside his mounting worry any longer. Ryan's face was too pale, his eyes too bright…

Marissa's voice broke through his muddled thoughts. "Where are your parents?" She asked as she sat down beside Ryan, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder as her large blue eyes focused on his face worriedly.

For a moment, Seth mind was a blank. "My parents?" He repeated, staring at her in confusion. _Focus, Seth. _Furiously, he shook his head. "Shit! My parents!" He exclaimed, tearing the mobile phone out of his back pocket and hitting speed dial. As it rang, he paced.

On the second ring, his father's panicked voice answered on the other end. "Seth? Have you heard anything?" He demanded impatiently.

"Yeah, dad. Marissa found him. He was on the beach." Seth told him, walking a tight perimeter around the living room, but his eyes never left the couch as he watched Marissa speak softly to Ryan, words only he was meant to hear. Seth didn't like the way Ryan looked.

His dad gave a crow of relief before repeating what Seth had said to presumably Kirsten. "Oh, thank God." Sandy sighed. "Where is he now, Seth? At Marissa's?"

Seth gulped. "No, he's here, dad. At the house. Marissa brought him back and now he's here." He explained, taking a few steps closer to where his friends still sat. "Are you on your way back? How far are you, dad? Because Ryan is…well, he's not saying much, and yeah, Ryan's always like that, but…something is definitely wrong, he doesn't look too good and…"

"Seth." His stern voice demanded that his son calm down, and immediately Seth stopped himself and took several steadying breaths. "Is he okay?"

Seth made himself sit down on the table again, across from his brother. Rubbing his forehead, Seth tried to assess the situation. "…No?" He swallowed hard. Marissa was attentively watching Ryan, but he could tell she was actively listening to his conversation as well. "I don't know, dad. He's…he's not good." Seth sighed, trying to quell the fear in his stomach.

He heard a muted voice speaking on the other end of the phone, and could barely identify his mother's voice. Then Sandy's insistent baritone returned. "Seth, check if he has a fever." His dad's voice instructed. "Does he feel hot?"

"His skin is like ice, dad." Seth said, his voice dismayed. But even as he spoke he raised a hesitant hand to his brother's forehead. His eyes fell closed at their own accord, and he cursed under his breath. "His forehead is hot, dad. Really hot." He said into the phone.

Marissa's eyes darted to Seth's and she stared at him in alarm. "What?" She asked, and placed her own palm on Ryan's face, as if she had to confirm for herself. Then she bit her lip, and when she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Oh my God. This is bad. It's bad, isn't it Seth?" She asked him, once again turning large, watery blue eyes onto Seth's face.

She was scared, as scared as he'd ever seen Marissa Cooper get. And that was saying something in itself. But even so, Seth nodded, clutching the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "It's not good." He mumbled, reaching out to pull the blanket higher up on Ryan's still shaking form. "Hang in there, buddy." He said softly, letting his hand rest on his best friend's shoulder. "Dad? Dad, how far away are you?" he asked into the phone.

"We'll be there in ten minutes, Seth. Just hold on." Sandy's voice returned, strong and steady, but Seth could hear the worry as clear as a bell. "Tell Marissa thank you. She did a good job."

Seth nodded. "Will do, dad." He muttered, his eyes wandering to Marissa's face for a moment before he looked away.

"We'll be there soon, I promise." His dad told him earnestly. Just as Seth was about to say goodbye, Sandy spoke again. "And Seth? Tell Ryan to hang in there, okay? Tell him everything will be alright. We'll figure this out." Seth felt his mouth go dry and his throat close up, so he didn't say anything. When his father spoke again, his voice was rough and scratchy. "And tell him…tell him we love him."

Rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes, Seth gave a shaky nod. "Okay, dad." He said softly. And after a long pause, Seth forced himself to be the first one to hang up the phone.

* * *

AN: There goes another chapter…not quite so large of a cliffhanger this time. You're just going to have to wait and see how the rest of that pans out…can they convince Ryan that he's wanted? Is he going to have to go back to the hospital? And what is this latest catastrophe going to do to family dynamics – bring them together or tear them farther apart? In the words of an old TV show, tune in next time! And please review…food for the writer's soul…Cheers!

-Vancouverite


	17. After the Storm

AN: Okay, this took so damn long because…well, it's long. And I like it, a lot, I'm pleased with myself, and therefore hoping that you guys will like it as well. Tremendous reviews, I dare say even more so than usual. Beachtree, sorry I haven't e-mailed you in a while, as you can see, I've been a busy bee. But I promise to get around to it soon. Other people who e-mailed me personally, thanks so much. I swear you'll get a reply soon. In any event, here's chapter seventeen. Please read, review, and enjoy!

**FADING – Chapter 17**

**Saturday**

The only noises Sandy could register as he ran the short distance from the driveway to the front door with his jacket held over his head to block the rain that poured from the sky, taking the stairs two at a time, was the rapid beating of his own heart, and the metallic clinking as Kirsten fumbled to force the key into the locks with furiously shaking hands. He had to swallow back the urge to literally remove her from the only thing separating himself from his sons, and break down that damned door himself.

As he was about to do just that, his wife finally managed to get the door open and they pushed their way through. "Seth!" Sandy found his voice abruptly as they jogged through the foyer.

"In here!" Came his son's call. Sandy followed it, Kirsten right behind him

The first thing he saw was Seth standing across the room, in front of the couch. His curly hair was fuzzy, out of control, and needed to be cut, Sandy realized. But his eyes, glued to his father's from a few meters away, were what struck Sandy the hardest; they were scared, and panicked, and relieved, all at once, and in that moment Sandy would have ran to him, covered the distance between them and hugged him until his son wasn't afraid anymore. And he would have done that if he hadn't had a more pressing need to worry about at that moment.

Ryan.

Kirsten beat him to the couch, and fell to her knees beside the boy's head. Sandy was right behind her, pushing the coffee table, an obstacle, out of his way as he crouched beside his wife and struggled to keep breathing. Ryan looked like he was out cold, or he would have if his face wasn't slightly pinched, the way he always looked when he got a bad headache, or if his back really hurt. But his eyes were shut and he almost looked peaceful. But the cause for the lump that formed in Sandy's throat was his foster son's beyond pale complexion, almost waxy and grey, and the bright red flush across his cheeks.

He heard Kirsten hesitantly clear her throat, almost a choking sound, as she brought up a trembling hand to his face. With the backs of her fingers, she gently stroked his cheek. "Ryan?" She whispered softly.

Sandy noticed for the first time that Marissa had been perched on the couch beside Ryan, and now she stood up to give them room, stepping back reluctantly to stand close to Seth. Her wide eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't remove her gaze from Ryan's face. Sandy couldn't count the number of times he had seen that girl cry on both hands. She sniffed, and hesitated before she spoke. "He…he stopped talking about five minutes ago." Her voice was soft.

Kirsten turned to look at her. "What?" She asked in confusion.

"It's…it's like he's ignoring us, mom." Seth spoke up suddenly, his voice shaky. "He won't talk, he's not responding to anything."

Turning back around, Sandy watched his wife nod, taking this information into account with a sad look in her eyes. Gently, she brushed her fingers through Ryan's hair and stopped briefly to rest her hand across his sweat-dampened forehead. She frowned. "Seth, can you please get me the thermometer?" She asked as politely as possible.

Marissa cleared her throat, and pointed to the coffee table, where the plastic object already sat. "It's 102.3." She stammered slightly, her blue eyes wide and hopeful. "We took it two minutes ago."

Kirsten managed a small smile at the girl, and then looked at their son. "You did a good job, you guys." She reassured them half-heartedly. Then a silence fell over the room, and Sandy looked up to see his wife staring at him. Her eyes were saying something to him he knew he should understand, but at that moment, nothing made sense.

"Sandy…" Kirsten said finally, beckoning him down closer. Once their eyes were level, she spoke to him in a hushed tone that betrayed the calm she was struggling to portray. "Should we take him to the hospital?" She murmured her words near his ears.

He was afraid it would come to this. Frowning at Ryan's still face, he let the question play over in his head for a few agonizing moments, feeling three sets of eyes boring down on him expectantly. Licking dry lips, Sandy gave a slight shake of his head. "I don't know." He replied honestly.

"This isn't right." Kirsten said, her soft voice filled with anxiety. "He's too quiet, he hasn't moved since we got here…"

Sandy reached out and took one of Ryan's icy cold hands into both of his, and squeezed it firmly. "Ryan." He said his name in a clear, strong voice. He saw movement under the boy's eyelids, and held his hand tighter. "Ryan. I know you can hear me. Answer me, son."

His felt his heart leap into his throat when a barely-there whimper made it's way past Ryan's throat. "Ryan…" Sandy tried again. "Open your eyes." The demand was just that – a near order in his parental, no-nonsense voice.

Lashes fluttered against a pale cheek, but after a moment his lids slowly opened to half-mast, revealing two exhausted, pain-filled blue eyes. Sandy felt his heart stop in his chest at that look, and he just held onto Ryan's hand even tighter. "Sandy…" the teenager murmured plaintively.

Kirsten stroked back his stubborn bangs with a gentle, steady sweep of her fingers. "Ryan, sweetie." She said to him gently, and his eyes moved slowly to land on hers. "Do you know where you are?"

Ryan glanced around, his expression hurt and confused, but he nodded. "Your house." He said it disappointed, betrayed, and looked pointedly at Marissa for a moment.

"No, you're home." Sandy corrected, drawing the boy's eyes back to his face. Ryan said nothing, but he seemed to be listening. "Ryan, why did you run away like that? We were so worried about you, we didn't know where you'd gone…Do you realize what could have happened to you? I can't even think about what might have happened if Marissa hadn't found you and brought you home. For God's sake, Ryan, you're sick. You can't be out wandering on the beach out in cold like that…" Sandy didn't know where this sudden burst of anger was coming from, but suddenly he couldn't stop it.

"I'm sorry." Ryan's whispered interruption came quietly, and Sandy stopped himself as his foster son lowered his gaze to the floor, shivering huddled under the mound of blankets on top of him.

Kirsten shot Sandy a disapproving look as she whispered to him in a soothing, reassuring tone. "It's alright, Ryan. We're not mad at you." She told him gently. "We were just scared, that's all."

Ryan shook his head weakly. "I didn't…I didn't know…" his voice trailed off and he broke off coughing for a moment, and Sandy exchanged a worried look with his wife. "I didn't want to scare you." He said finally.

"Of course we were scared." Sandy said, disbelieving. "Do not do that again, Ryan. I know you were upset, and maybe mad at me, at Seth, but you do not run from us like that. Next time just come to one of us, whether it be me, or Kirsten, or Seth…talk to us." He stopped, and hesitated then. Somehow he knew that his point was still not getting across. Ryan would not look him in the eye, and he was blinking, looking scared suddenly, and trapped.

Ready to flee.

Sandy moved his hand up to Ryan's arm and squeezed it insistently. "Ryan, look at me." He said, and waited. He would wait for this all day. Finally, agonizingly slowly, Ryan lifted glassy eyes to his face and matched his stare guiltily. "Promise me that you will not do that again."

Ryan licked his lips, swallowed painfully, and averted his gaze. "Sandy…"

"You weren't just hurting us, Ryan." Sandy interrupted. "You were hurting yourself. You made yourself sicker, do you realize that? For a moment Kirsten and I were trying to decide whether or not to take you to the emergency room…"

"No." Ryan's voice pleaded suddenly. "Please…no, I don't want to go back to the hospital. Please, I promise, just please don't make me go back." His voice hitched, his eyes wide and fearful.

Sandy's heart broke a little, and he hated himself for what he was about to say. He knew he was playing dirty pool, but he had to make this clear. "Then you promise me that you won't leave again?" Sandy said firmly, locking eyes with his foster son.

Ryan nodded.

"Promise me." Sandy repeated, giving him a small shake.

"I promise." Ryan whispered, blue eyes blinking up at Sandy hopefully.

Sandy sighed, nodded slightly, and managed a slight smile. "Good boy." He said gently, giving his arm a final squeeze before letting him go, and sitting back on his heels. He wrapped his arms around himself briefly, and stared out at the window for a moment. The storm passing over was showing no signs of letting up, and the chill from outside was seeping into the house. Sandy briefly wondered if they had forgotten to shut the front door on their way in.

Kirsten glanced at her husband once before settling herself more directly in Ryan's view, and in that quick change, Sandy could tell that his foster son had withdrawn slightly again. "Are you alright, honey? Do you feel okay?" She asked, her voice soft and controlled as she kept brushing her fingers through his hair.

With a tight smile, Ryan nodded. "I'm fine." He replied quietly.

Practically forgotten a few feet away, Seth made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff in his throat, his eyes glued to his shoes, his expression defeated.

Kirsten's eyes narrowed. "Seth." Her voice warned sternly. "Don't start."

"Really, Kirsten. I'm okay." Ryan assured her from where he lay on the couch. He cleared his throat and coughed, his voice slightly scratchy. "I'm just really tired."

Kirsten nodded and gave him a warm smile, but here eyes were still full of concern. "I'm worried that you've made yourself worse, honey. You've got a fever…well, worse than it was before. Maybe taking you to the hospital wouldn't be such a bad idea…"

"No." Ryan all but gasped, reaching for her hand and holding it tightly. His blue eyes pleaded with her silently.

With a reluctant sigh, Kirsten nodded again. "Alright." She gave in, kissing his forehead. "I guess we'll let you get your rest. I'll bring you in some tea, okay sweetie? And some Tylenol. Let's see if we can bring that fever down on our own." She suggested, offering one last smile and a squeeze of his hand before she got to her feet. "Let's let Ryan get some sleep." She gestured towards the kitchen.

Sandy watched Seth nod, his lips pressed into a thin line as he allowed himself to make eye contact with his foster brother for a brief, silent moment, his hand raising in a slight wave as he started to leave the room.

Marissa glanced at Ryan nervously, her arms wrapped around her midsection tightly as she gathered courage to flash him a brave smile. She walked up to his bedside and reached for his hand. He gave it to her, and they seemed both awkward and relieved when the contact was made, their eyes holding each other's gaze for a few long moments. Then she gave him another teary smile and pulled away. "I'll see you later, okay?" she told him quietly.

Ryan gave a tiny nod. "Okay."

Sandy was the last one standing beside the couch, and he looked down at the pale teenager and tried to smile. He was dismayed when Ryan, once again, had lowered his gaze to the floor. Sandy sighed, and reached down to squeeze his shoulder. "We'll talk later, Ryan." He said, his own voice suddenly sounding tired. When Ryan said nothing more, he turned to join the others as they walked out of the room.

Ryan's voice stopped him cold in his tracks. "You shouldn't have gone looking for me."

Feeling a lump lodge itself in his throat, Sandy looked at his wife when she turned around, her eyes full of desperation and fresh tears. Seth swallowed audibly, and Sandy saw his hands roll into fists at his sides. None of them had been expecting that.

Sandy squared his shoulders and turned around, summoning whatever strength he could as he made his way back to the couch and sat down at the edge of a cushion. Ryan was still looking down, but even with his head bowed Sandy could still see the tears in his eyes. Sandy didn't ask why he said what he did. After the conversation that afternoon, he had a good enough idea. Instead he just sat close at his side and waited.

But Ryan said nothing, and didn't look up.

Reaching out tentatively, he cupped the back of the teenager's neck with a gentle hand. "Ryan." He said softly.

When slowly, Ryan lifted his head and looked at Sandy with wide, timid eyes, barely holding back his tears, Sandy was sure his heart was permanently broken. Holding back his own emotions, he forced words past his tight throat. "Ryan, we will always look for you. There will never come a time when we will let you go. Or leave you." His voice was shaking, but he couldn't have controlled it if he tried. "You're a part of this family, and families don't let go of the ones they love, no matter what. We love you, and that will never, ever change. It doesn't matter if something difficult comes up and complicates things for a while. And if you push us away because you're scared of what that means, we're still not going to fade." Sandy reached out his other hand to gently wipe away the tears that fell steadily down Ryan's cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "And we're not going to let _you_ fade, either."

Ryan's lower lip trembled, and right before Sandy's eyes, the boy's defenses crumbled. A muted sob tore from his throat, and his body made a weak gesture at leaning forward, closer to his foster father. Immediately, brokenly, Sandy reached out and gathered his son into his arms, feeling hot tears soak the shoulder of his shirt. He held him tightly, a hand resting in his tousled blonde hair as he felt Ryan's fists clench tightly at his back, grabbing handfuls of his shirt like anchors, hanging on for dear life.

Outside the weather screamed its protest and pounded against the roof, rivulets of water cascading down the windows. In his arms, Ryan wasn't shivering anymore, and Sandy didn't feel so cold. The storm wasn't over yet, but now the rain had come and was slowly washing everything away, and breaking up the clouds. Even the wind was letting up.

Tomorrow, maybe, it would be sunny again.

* * *

Marissa stirred in her third spoonful of sugar into the light brown mixture of her coffee, glancing up nervously to see if either Seth or Sandy had noticed. They were eagerly sipping their own concoctions, both drinks much darker than her own. She didn't have the heart to tell them that she wasn't much of a coffee drinker – unless it was steamed to perfection and loaded with decedent flavors like vanilla and caramel. She sipped at her own anyway, ignoring the bitterness. It wasn't so bad. Anything warm felt good right now.

"Marissa, you cold?" Sandy asked, and she looked up to see her watching her from across the kitchen table. "Want a sweatshirt or something?" He was already getting up, disappearing from the room only to return seconds later with a large grey hoodie that reminded her of her dad's.

Gratefully, she accepted the offering and pulled it on, the front proudly displaying 'Berkley' in bold letters. "Thank you." She said with a smile.

Sandy waved her away. "No worries. Besides, I saw that your USC sweater was currently occupied." He gave her a knowing look and she smiled, averting her eyes. Sandy nodded to the one she had on. "That baby got me through some rough times. Ryan's been wearing it more often than me, these days."

Marissa nodded as he spoke, and waited until Sandy started talking to Seth before she lowered her nose to the soft grey fabric, closing her eyes and breathing in. God, it smelled like Ryan. Suddenly her chest hurt and her eyes pricked with fresh tears. Blinking them away, she reached for her cup of coffee and took another small sip.

"Well, he's asleep." Kirsten walked into the room quietly, heading directly for the coffee maker and retrieving a mug of her own. Marissa watched her for a moment, and realized that the older woman looked very tired. Inconspicuously she glanced at the other members of the Cohen clan from behind the rim of her cup. They all looked tired.

Seth craned his neck as his mother came around to join the others at the table. "He gonna be okay?" He asked worriedly.

Kirsten nodded. "I think so." She said, smiling at her son and covering his hand with her own, giving it a brief squeeze. "His fever went down a little. And he's keeping down his medicine, so that's always a good sign. I'll call Dr. Collins tomorrow, let him know what happened." She said, as if she were mentally checking thins off in her head.

Seth's mouth twitched, and his eyes stayed glued on a spot on the table. "That's not…not quite what I meant." He said, and paused. "I mean is Ryan going to be okay…now? I mean, does he trust us now? This 'don't help me' bullshit is over and done with?"

Sandy's eyes narrowed. "Seth…"

"Right, right, language." Seth muttered sarcastically. "But, dad, answer the question." He somewhat begged.

Though Marissa didn't have a clue as to what they were talking about, she awaited Sandy's reply just as anxiously. "I don't think Ryan will ever be totally secure with some of the things we're used to, Seth. It's just the way he was raised, he doesn't understand. Having people care that much…some part of him will always be afraid that one wrong move and we'll send him packing." He finished his sentence with a sad shake of his head, and wrapped both hands around his coffee cup, lost in thought. "But to answer your question, Seth, yeah, we turned a corner today, I think. Now at least he's beginning to understand…we're not going to let him go."

Marissa stared at Sandy. "He said something to me at the beach." She said, breaking the brief moment of silence. All eyes rested on her. "He said he didn't want you to come after him because it would be better that way…and that he couldn't go home because he had to make you understand." Marissa looked up at the Cohens. "Understand what? What's going on with him? I've never seen him like this before." She said softly, her eyes wandering out towards the hall.

Sandy sighed. "Minutes before Ryan disappeared from the pool house, Ryan finally revealed to Seth and I why he's been so…scared to let us help him." He began hesitantly.

A frown creased Marissa's forehead. "Scared?" She asked, confused. "What do you mean? Ryan adores you guys, it doesn't make any sense."

"He's been pushing us away since day one." Seth interjected, his eyes finally lifting from the table to look directly at Marissa. His expression was as serious as she had ever seen him look before. "Very long story, but essentially Ryan's got this 'too good for help' vibe that's been going on for weeks now…"

"It's not like that, Seth." Kirsten jumped in, giving him a scolding look. "You know that. He was scared. Terrified even."

Marissa shook her head. "But of what?"

"That we'll abandon him." Sandy replied, drawing Marissa's eyes to his in surprise. "He told us he's afraid that we'll get sick of taking care of him, and up and leave him just like his mom did…"

"Just like everyone else in his life." Seth finished for his dad, and Marissa found him staring at her with an accusing look in his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. His words made Marissa flinch as if she'd been slapped and she had to look away, feeling the familiar pangs of guilt that had plagued her constantly over the past couple weeks. Only this time in shockingly high intensity.

"Seth." Kirsten hissed at her son.

Marissa swallowed hard. "No. It's okay. He's right." She began shakily, still unable to look anyone in the eye. She felt tears rise to her eyes but was determined not to fall apart. "I know I haven't handled any of this well. At all."

"Hey, hey. If anyone gets to play the guilt card, it's me. Don't you dare take that away from me." Sandy teased her, somewhat seriously, and Marissa managed a small smile. "If you want to join the club, I'll look into it. I am the founding member, after all." He sighed, and all the humor disappeared from his voice. "I've just been feeding his fears, really. He's afraid we'll abandon him and that's exactly what I've been doing." Sandy's voice lowered sadly, his expression pained and defeated.

Kirsten stared at her husband. "Sandy…you never 'abandoned' him." She countered.

Dramatically, Seth scratched his temple and cocked his head to one side, looking at his mother dramatically. "I'm sorry, then what exactly would you call it, mom?" He asked, stopping and considering the question himself. Then he stopped and dropped his hands to his lap, sighing. "Look, I don't want to have this fight again. With any of you." He paused then and locked eyes with Marissa and Kirsten, as well.

"Then don't." Sandy spoke calmly, evenly. "We realize what we've done. We've all made mistakes, Seth…"

"And now's the time to fix them? Without hiding at work, letting Caleb Nichol bully you to the office, or drowning in a bottle of vodka?" Seth's words came in a rush, and when he was finished, everyone looked breathless. Pushing back his chair and getting hurriedly to his feet, Seth rested his hand on the back of his seat. "I'm going to…go check on Ryan." He mumbled, and disappeared from the room.

Once he was gone, Marissa slumped back in her chair and ducked her head, feeling guilt and embarrassment turn her cheeks red hot. After long moments of uncomfortable silence, she glanced up nervously, and was surprised to see Sandy and Kirsten with expressions that mirrored her own.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, Marissa finished the last of her coffee and started to stand. "Well, I'd better get next door…my mom is probably flying off the handle wondering where I am." She began uncomfortably, seeing the gentle smiles both the Cohens gave her. She looked at Sandy. "Thanks for the coffee, Mr. Cohen…and the sweatshirt. I'll wash it for you."

"Hey, hang on to it as long as you want, kiddo." Sandy told her with a wave as she started to leave the table. "And hey, Marissa?" he called

Marissa turned around again to face him.

He looked so tired, relieved, and sad that Marissa wanted to give him a hug. "Thanks. For bringing Ryan back." He tried to smile. "We…we don't know what we would've done without you." Sandy said seriously.

Feeling her throat close up, Marissa managed a nod as she walked to the kitchen doors. Then she stopped and half-turned again, her blue eyes shifting between Sandy and Kirsten nervously. "Could you tell Ryan that I'll be by tomorrow?" She asked politely.

Kirsten smiled at her warmly and nodded. "Sure, sweetie."

"And…tell him I'm sorry." Marissa found herself saying, the words coming forward before she had a chance to realize she was speaking them. "For everything."

Another smile and nod, and a look in Kirsten's eyes that gave her confidence. "We will." Kirsten told her, the look in her eyes full of surprise, and also pride. "I'm sure he already knows."

Marissa nodded and waved, and after a final goodbye, she stepped back outside into the cold. The wind blew a few light raindrops into her face, and she reached back to pull the hood of the sweatshirt over her head. Then taking a deep breath, she trotted across the patio, heading towards the street. The sweatshirt kept her warm, and she hardly felt the breeze as it blew past her. She'd give it back as promised, but maybe in a few days.

* * *

Turning off the hall lights as he made his way down the corridor, Sandy sighed as finished his walk through of the house, making sure all doors were locked and all occupants were in their beds. When he had ducked his head into the guestroom, Ryan had been sleeping soundly. Sandy just hoped his fever would stay down, and maybe things could go right, for once.

As he finished his rounds and started down the hall to the bedroom, he passed by the door to Seth's room and saw the light washing out from under the closed door. As he leaned in closer, he heard soft, mellow music playing from inside. Gently, he rapped on the door with his knuckle.

"Yeah?" Seth's quiet voice replied.

Taking the liberty, Sandy turned the knob and stepped inside. Seth was stretched out on his bed, arms pillowed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. He was still fully clothed. "Hey." Sandy said as he walked further into the room and sat down on the end of the mattress. "You're still up."

Seth nodded. "Yeah. Not tired." He said softly and sighed. "It's late, though. Why are you awake still? Usually you and the sun share a pretty similar time table."

Sandy shrugged. "Not tired." He parroted, and grinned at his son. "You've been holed up here the whole evening, you didn't even come down for dinner…your mother was so shocked we considered taking _you _to the hospital." He smirked, and reveled in the smile that appeared on his son's face.

"I wasn't very hungry." Seth replied neutrally.

Nodding silently, Sandy remained quiet and waited. If he knew his son at all, and he liked to think that he did, silence and a bit of time was all it took for Seth Cohen to start talking again.

He wasn't let down. "Look, dad." Seth started awkwardly, pulling his hands out from behind his head and sitting up on the bed. "I'm sorry. About before. What I said to you and mom and Marissa…I was head jerk. Ruler, even. Anyway, the point is I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that." He said, and looked up at his dad for a response.

Sandy nodded, thinking of a good response. "Well…" He began, and then sighed, and settled for honesty. "It's not as if you were way off target." He said, meeting his son's gaze with a resigned one of his one.

Seth snorted. "But it's not as if I'm perfect or anything." He retorted, staring at the wall across from the bed. "Ryan's pissed at me as it is. I think he has been from day one. The hovering…I don't do well with space. And by space, I mean giving it." Seth shrugged.

"Yes, but Ryan doesn't do well with accepting help. As we've all learned quite well today." Sandy sighed, his posture slouching as he let his hands fold in his lap. "But I don't think 'pissed' is the right word. He didn't understand it, maybe. He didn't know how to respond to it."

"And…now he does?" Seth asked hopefully.

Sandy looked Seth in the eye and smiled. "How about…" he stopped and offered a grin. "He's getting there?" He let it sound like a question, one eyebrow raised.

Slowly the edges of Seth's mouth curled up into a smile, and he couldn't help but laugh at his dad's expression. He bobbed his head in approval. "Works for me." He replied.

"Good." Sandy lightly punched his son's shoulder, playfully ruffling his hair as he rested his hands on his thighs and pushed up from the bed. "I don't know about you, but I could go for a salt bagel and cream cheese shmear right about now." He said, gesturing towards the door.

Seth rolled his eyes. "Lord. I thought you'd never ask." He exclaimed, leaping up from the bed and bounding towards the hallway. "My stomach was beginning to take on a mind of its own. For a second I thought one of those aliens was gonna pop out of my chest and create its own environment in my closet."

"Well, tame the beast son, because we have to venture past Ryan's door." Sandy held a finger to his lips and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Quietly."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Father, do you know who you're talking to?" he asked dramatically as they left the room and headed down the darkened stairwell. "Have I not mentioned the word 'stealth' to you recently?"

A knock on her door woke Marissa from a day dream as she tore her eyes away from the ceiling and sat up in bed. Three guesses as to who would be on the other side. "What?" She asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Marissa, sweetie?" Her mother's irritating voice trilled in from the hallway, and within minutes Julie had the door open and was standing at the foot of the bed, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. "There you are, honey. I didn't hear you come in. Where have you been all day?" She asked, sitting down beside her daughter.

Purposely, Marissa shifted away from her. "The beach." She replied simply, giving her mother an impatient look.

"On a day like this? Marissa, you're insane. Do you know what that weather will do to your hair?" Julie sighed with a disgusted look. Then her expression turned thoughtful as she regarded Marissa's outfit with a critical eye. "Sweetie, where on earth did you get that sweatshirt? It's so…Eight Mile." She shuddered.

Marissa wrapped her arms around herself and glared at her mother. "It's Sandy Cohen's, mom." She rolled her eyes and prayed that for once, Julie Cooper would take a hint and leave her alone. "What do you want?" She snapped.

"No need to get bitchy, all I wanted was to have a normal conversation with my daughter." Julie defended herself, glaring hard and crossing her arms. She reached out to the bedside table and picked up a framed picture of Marissa and Ryan, studying it with a critical eye. "Just wanted to let you know that we'll leave for Cardio Bar at ten tomorrow morning."

Snatching the photograph out of her mother's hands and hugging it to her chest, Marissa made a noise of disgust. "Fine. But I'm not going." She countered and stared at the wall.

Julie chuckled. "Yes, you are."

"Or what?"

"Or you're not allowed to go to the Cohens this week." Julie replied right away, blue eyes flashing and a smile playing across her lips. She knew she had hit a nerve. It didn't matter that Julie had no idea what problems had been going on between her daughter and her boyfriend or that Marissa hadn't been to see Ryan nearly as often as she used to. Today the threat had the desired affect. "Two can play at this game, sweetie."

Taking away her cell phone, or making her spend another night, those were punishments Marissa could handle. But she had promised Ryan that she'd be back tomorrow. There was no way in hell she was going back on her word. "Fine."

Julie's face erupted into a satisfied grin. "Great! Remember, ten, okay? Be ready." She stood from the bed and breezed to the door, stopping briefly to turn around. "And honey, I'm not going to ask why you're wearing Sandy Cohen's sweatshirt, but promise me that you'll take it off. Soon."

Once the door was shut, Marissa's anger ran rampant and she grabbed the nearest object – Share Bear – and hurled it at the solid wood with a frustrated growl. She picked up the photo of her and Ryan that had fallen to her lap and replaced it carefully on her bedside table. When she saw the happy looks on both their faces, she felt a familiar pang of sadness jab at her heart. And in an instant she knew what she would normally do to make that pain go away.

Angrily, she reached under the bed and hauled out the cardboard box that she had treasured. Gripping it with both arms, she stormed across the room and swung the door open, letting it slam against the wall. In seconds she was at the sink in the bathroom across the hall. Picking up the first bottle of vodka on top, she didn't hesitate as she unscrewed the lid and turned it upside down over the sink. She watched with a silent satisfaction as the clear liquid washed slowly down the drain.

One by one she went through the same process until the box was filled with empty bottles. That done, she returned to her room.

* * *

The phone rang early the next morning. Kirsten had gotten up at the crack of dawn – even before Sandy, for what had to be the first time in her life – and donned her bathrobe and clad her feet in slippers. As she had been creeping as quietly as possible down the hall, passed Seth's door, on her way to Ryan's guest room, the shrill ring of the telephone had resonated through the house and she sighed, stopping briefly before spinning on her heel and running down the stairs to the kitchen. The last thing everyone needed was to be woken this early.

As she grabbed the portable handset off the counter, she prayed that whoever was calling at this ungodly hour would make it fast. She hadn't been in to check on Ryan since a little after midnight when she had finally allowed herself to go to sleep. His fever wasn't rising and he seemed to be resting peacefully. Kirsten just hoped that their good luck hadn't run out yet. She'd heard him coughing a few times in the middle of the night, and felt her stomach tense up just at the thought of him getting a cold right now.

"Hello?" She said into the mouthpiece impatiently.

"Kiki?" Her father's familiar baritone replied on the other end, and Kirsten cringed. She should have known. "You sound out of breath. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

Kirsten sighed. "Well, actually dad, I was just going to check on Ryan, so…"

"Good. I got you just in time, then." He said triumphantly. "I just wanted to go over some of the details for this latest model home. You'll be here soon, yes?"

Rubbing her forehead, Kirsten closed her eyes and willed her temper to keep in check. "Dad, now really isn't a good time. Ryan's been sick recently…" She stopped and wondered why she even bothered. "We're not meeting until three today. We can go over it then." She said, trying to sound dismissive.

"Didn't you get my message? I've changed my mind. I want us to meet in my office in an hour."

Kirsten felt her patience waning. "I can't do that, dad. I can't leave right now. I shouldn't even leave at all today."

There was a pause, and she listened to her father's deep breathing. "Because of the boy?" he asked lowly.

"Yes, because of Ryan, dad." She snapped. "I need to be here to take care of him."

"We've discussed this already, Kirsten." Caleb growled at her through the phone. "I knew this would interfere with your work. You need to get your priorities in order."

So much for keeping her temper in check. Kirsten felt it ignite, and her courage was fueled. "Oh, my priorities are in perfect order, dad." She said snidely. "My family is at the top. And Ryan is my family. And right now, you couldn't be farther at the bottom. So you can just have that meeting without me."

"Kirsten, I told you what I'd have to do if it came down to this." Her father warned, his voice mounting in volume, booming at her through the receiver. "I told you what would happen." He said, his words venomous.

Kirsten gave sarcastic chuckle. "What, you'll fire me?" She asked, gripping the phone tighter. "Well then what the hell are you waiting for, dad?" She only listened to the stunned silence on the other end for a millisecond before hitting the end button and slamming the receiver down on the counter.

* * *

Sandy Cohen was content. He was watching TV, had an ice cold beer in his hand, the sun was setting, the house was quiet, and for the first time in a long time, it had been a really, really good day.

Granted, there wasn't much of anything interesting on any of the four hundred channels at the moment, but even that couldn't hold a candle to his good mood. The day had been relatively peaceful, what with Seth spending the day with Summer and Sandy getting to have Kirsten all to himself. He'd never been so proud of her when she'd regaled him with the tale of how she'd told off her father. She hadn't gone to work the whole day, and the best part was that it didn't even seem to bother her. So they'd spent the morning together leisurely drinking cups of coffee and sharing sections of the paper, kissing and smiling at each other from across the counters. Seth had been disgusted. Things felt normal. Things felt good.

Kirsten wasn't the only one he was proud of. Marissa had shown up true to her word at eleven thirty and didn't go home until five. She and Ryan spent the day in the living room talking, watching TV, and then talking some more. At first they sat side by side, unsure, not touching, and looking like a couple of awkward teenagers. But when Sandy had walked in no more than an hour or so later, Marissa had been relaxed against the cushions, Ryan's head pillowed in her lap, gazing at each other as she said something that made him smile. And even though Sandy hadn't heard a word of it, he'd been smiling from ear to ear, as well.

Now the TV was just a little soothing background noise as Sandy gazed out the windows at the sky reflecting gold and blue light across the ocean. The peace was almost unnerving. Seth was still at Summer's and Kirsten had made a last minute milk and cold medicine run to the grocery store.

Ryan's fever had let up slightly, but when Marissa had gone home and Ryan had come in to the kitchen before going back up to bed, he'd confessed that he wasn't feeling all that well. And though he tried to deny it, his cough was getting worse. In addition to the usual list of symptoms, the kid had to be feeling absolutely rotten.

As the thought finished, Sandy sighed and put down his beer. That had effectively broken the peace. Turning off the TV, he got up from the couch and started for the stairs. He had checked on Ryan not more that fifteen minutes ago and the teenager had been fast asleep, but something wasn't sitting right. Sandy quickened his pace until he was outside the quiet bedroom door.

When he stepped inside the darkened room, he could immediately tell that something was wrong. The bed was empty and the room was silent. Immediately panic coursed through his veins, and Sandy wanted to run out of the room screaming and yelling. But he forced himself to stop, calm down, and listen.

The sound of the toilet flushing behind the closed bathroom door sent a wave of relief through his system so intense, Sandy nearly fainted. Striding quickly to the door, he knocked. "Ryan?"

"Yeah." The teenager's exhausted voice came through. He coughed. "I'm alright, Sandy." He said after a moment.

Sandy pushed the door open and immediately got to his knees beside Ryan on the cool bathroom tile. "You okay, kid?" He asked worriedly. The boy was pale and shivering, slumped against the wall at his back. Sandy had seen him like this more times than he cared to remember. But Ryan usually waved him off and said he'd be out in a minute. And usually it worked.

But it was time to try something different.

Ryan nodded wearily. "Just…sick." He relented, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he stared at Sandy critically, eyeing him narrowly. "Are _you _okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sandy flushed slightly, suddenly embarrassed. "Me? I'm fine." He said, laughing a little at his own expense. He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Just…when I came in here you weren't in your bed, and it was way too quiet…"

Ryan's eyes widened in realization. "You thought I'd taken off again." He stated quietly.

"But you didn't." Sandy said instantly. "And you're not going to."

After a brief moment of silence in which Ryan's eyes never left Sandy's, he nodded, and gave a kind of tight-lipped smile, his expression thoughtful. "Right." His voice was almost at a whisper.

When they were quiet again and Ryan looked away, closing his eyes, Sandy saw another shudder run through his thin frame and his brows furrowed in concern. "You're not alright." He said, reaching out a hand and placing it on Ryan's forehead. "You're still not hot, which is good. But you're nauseous?" he asked gently, studying the boy's face.

"I'm alright." Ryan replied, even though he shuddered again. And Sandy absently realized that it wasn't because he was cold. "Could you, um…I do need another painkiller, though. Please." He said through tightly clenched teeth, looking at Sandy hopefully.

For the second time that day, Sandy's heart broke. "Of course, kid." He pushed up from the floor, cursing old bones, and filled a tumbler with water from the sink. He quickly found an extra bottle of Ryan's medicine in the cabinet above the faucets and shook out two pills.

"Thank you." Ryan said softly as he quickly swallowed the capsules Sandy transferred into his hand.

Sandy watched him for a few moments, feeling a strange kick in his chest just at the sight. With a small, quiet sigh, he reached out and touched Ryan's shoulder, gently. "Come on." He said softly, waiting until Ryan opened his eyes again. "Let's get you back to bed."

Ryan looked like he wanted to protest, but when Sandy reached down and held him under his arms, he clamped his mouth shut and soon was on his feet. With his foster son's arm around his neck and his own arm around the teenager's lean waist, Sandy managed to walk them slowly out of the bathroom and the short distance to the bed. Ryan resisted only slightly, but Sandy could tell that he was in too much pain to let his pride make any decisions on the matter.

"There…" Sandy spoke soothingly as he lowered Ryan down, pulled back blankets, fluffed pillows, and fussed incessantly. He tucked the covers up around Ryan's shoulders and saw two blue eyes staring back at him, watching his every move. "Can I get you anything else, kid?" he asked gently.

Ryan shook his head. "No. I'll be okay." He said, and offered a slight smile. "Thanks, Sandy." He added hesitantly, after a beat.

Sandy squeezed his hand. "No problem." He said, returning the smile with a more confident one of his own. Then he stood. "Kirsten should be home soon. We'll find something for dinner and bring it up, okay? It'll be like a picnic." He turned around after exchanging one more look and headed towards the door.

He heard Ryan shift in bed, and then a tiny, barely perceptible whimper caught Sandy off guard, and he stopped in his tracks. He turned around and switched on the lamp by the bed. Ryan's eyes were clamped closed and he was biting his lip to keep back any further noises. Wordlessly, Sandy sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his trembling shoulders. "You're okay, kid." He said to him softly. "Just breathe through it."

Sandy could see the muscles working in his foster son's jaw as he nodded. "I know." He wheezed. "It just…hurts." His voice had dropped to a pained whisper.

Sitting up higher, Sandy pulled Ryan more fully into his arms, holding him as gently as he could. "We just have to wait for the medicine to kick in." He said soothingly, feeling Ryan turn his neck and bury his face against Sandy's chest. "Kirsten is always good at making the pain go away, right kid?" he asked suddenly.

He felt Ryan's head nod against his shirt.

"She can usually make you fall right to sleep. What does she do?" he asked himself aloud, staring down at the top of Ryan's head. Sighing, he willed back the burning in his eyes. "I know she does this." He gently ran his fingers through Ryan's hair, pushing his bangs away from his forehead with a soothing touch. He smiled slightly as he instantly felt some of the tension in Ryan's body melt away, and he slackened against him.

It got very quiet again, and in that moment time seemed to stop. Sandy listened as Ryan's calculated, shallow breathing began to taper and relax, and soon the steady, even breaths told him that he had fallen asleep. But Sandy didn't let him go, and he didn't stop his hand's sweeping motion through Ryan's dark blonde hair. Seth would hate this, he realized. In fact, Ryan in his usual form would hate it, too. Or at least be embarrassed by it. They'd have to keep it just between the two of them, then

As he eased a pillow gently under Ryan's head, Sandy checked his watch and smiled to himself. Ryan had fallen asleep in under two minutes. As he reached over to turn off the lamp, he wondered why he had thought it would be so hard. This was way easier than he thought.

* * *

For the bazillionth time that night, Seth gave an exasperated sigh and gave an energized kick of his legs to push the blankets off the end of the bed, flipping onto his back and staring at the ceiling.

_This sucks_, he thought to himself in frustration. When he checked the digital clock next to his head it was going on two in the morning. He definitely wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

Sitting up he hit the switch on the wall and blinked several hundred times to let his eyes adjust to the harsh change in lighting. He was really regretting that night time espresso he'd had at that uppity café with Summer. That really had not been the brightest move. Now his eyes were as wide as saucers and he couldn't even convince himself that it was late and he should sleep. There was no way in hell his body was going to put up with that crap.

Swinging his legs to the side, he looked around the room and pondered his next move. He could go down stairs and have a glass of milk…or watch some late night TV and hope to either doze off or be bored to death. Either seemed like a desirable option at that point.

Getting up and heading out to the hall, Seth glanced briefly through the darkness to the doorway of Ryan's room. Normally, in the pre-cancer days, Seth would have no problem waking up his brother and demanding entertainment. But now he knew better. Ryan always needed his rest.

But suddenly he heard the shifting of springs and a heavy sigh. On a whim, Seth propelled himself forward and pushed the door the rest of the way open, stepping into the eerily dark room. Light from a window across from the bed barely illuminated Ryan sitting up against a stack of pillows, but upon closer inspection Seth could clearly see that his best friend's eyes were open.

"Ryan." He whispered, hoping he wouldn't startle him too much. "You're still awake, man."

Immediately Ryan's head turned and he squinted back at Seth in the darkness. "Seth?" There was a rustle of blankets and Ryan pushed himself up slightly, leaning against the headboard. "What are you doing up? It's like, two in the morning." He rubbed his eyes and blinked at Seth a few times.

"I know…I can't sleep. Too much caffeine with Summer. The woman is a coffee nut, dude." He said, suddenly uncomfortable as he shifted his weight to his other leg and cleared his throat. "What's your excuse?" he thought for a moment and became concerned. "Your back bugging you? Dad said you were really hurting earlier. Do you need another painkiller?" He tried to sound helpful, not overbearing.

Ryan sighed and lay back down. When he spoke, there was something about his voice that made Seth startle. He'd never heard Ryan sound so…sad. "I just…can't sleep." He said after a pause. "Got a lot on my mind, I guess."

After a moment of hesitation, Seth closed the door and felt his way through the dark, reaching the bed and sitting down on the corner. He could see Ryan better, and saw that his brother was watching him intently. "Brooding Ryan Atwood? Now that's a new one." Seth joked, achieving a small smile from Ryan. "So spill. I'm listening." He said thoughtfully.

Ryan still looked at him as if surprised that Seth was paying any attention to him at all. But after a moment his gaze flicked away, looking out the window, and he started speaking. "I don't know…" He began. "It's everything, I guess. Marissa came over today…did you know that?" he asked, looking at Seth.

"Yep. Summer told me." Seth replied. "That's a good sign, I mean, right? She's trying now. Like, _really _trying. So that's…great, man." He knew he sounded unsure. But for some reason that he didn't want to try and figure out, he couldn't read Ryan at all right now.

But Ryan nodded, and his eyes softened. "Yeah." He said quietly. "It is great."

Seth bobbed his head, slightly uncomfortable. "So…there must be something else, right? Because Marissa Cooper being happy _is _a little unnerving, but I don't think it would cause sleep deprivation." He said sarcastically. "Give me something to work with, Ry. What's bugging you? Besides me."

Ryan grinned at him for a moment before it faded. He looked out the window again and silently shook his head.

Smacking his lips together, Seth shrugged. "Okaaaay…" he began, thinking. "Well, are you perhaps thinking about what happened yesterday?" he asked hesitantly.

He was surprised when Ryan nodded, still not looking at him. "Yeah, I guess so." He said softly, his eyes practically losing focus as they stared out at the ocean. Then they lapsed into silence again, both of them lost in thought. It seemed like ages that they sat there, not saying anything, barely even breathing.

Seth's voice surprised both of them. "Why did you run away?" He asked, staring at Ryan's face.

His eyes were glassy as he continued to gaze out the window. "Don't know." He whispered.

Looking at his foster brother skeptically, Seth scoffed. "Sure you do."

There was a long pause, and Seth watched brokenly as a stray tear slipped from the corner of Ryan's eye and tracked down his cheek. Quickly he lifted a hand and brushed it away, as if hoping that Seth wouldn't have noticed. He cleared his throat before he spoke, but his voice still cracked. "I was scared." He said quietly, swallowing hard. "And I don't just mean about letting you guys take care of me."

For a moment that felt like years, Seth just didn't understand, until it hit him like a slap in the face. For the first time since day one, Ryan was admitting that he was afraid of the cancer. And even while Seth felt a burst of relief over the fact that it had finally been discovered, a pang of sadness and fear hit him just as hard, if not harder. Seth shook his head. "Please don't be scared. I mean, I know you'd be a complete statue if you weren't, but please…don't be." He found himself saying, and Ryan finally looked at him, his eyes brimming with tears. "I can be scared enough for the both of us, how about that? 'Cause I am, no doubt about it. And then you can not be scared, I'll be the terrified little girl, and the 'rents will make sure all is well, and pretty soon I promise that you will get better." He blurted in one long breath.

Ryan smiled at him almost sympathetically. "It doesn't work like that, Seth." He whispered.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter, just…I know you're scared, but don't do any thing stupid again, okay? Because there will only be so many times when Marissa is wandering the beach in a windstorm, ready to save you." He paused. "Marissa…saving _you_…whoa, who'd have ever thought those two things would ever go together. I can't even tell you how wrong that is."

Ryan chuckled slightly. "I won't run away again, Seth. I promise." He said softly, looking at Seth seriously, and Seth knew he meant it. "But…"

"But you're still scared." Seth finished for him. Then he sighed and shrugged. He reached out and put a gentle hand on Ryan's forearm. "Well, don't be, bro. Not so much, anyway. Because it'll be over soon." Just saying it made him feel better. He hoped it had the same effect on his foster brother.

Swallowing again, Ryan nodded and managed a watery smile. "Thanks." He said quietly, looking away after a moment. He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "You should go back to bed. It's really late." He said, breaking the silence.

Seth nodded. "You're right. 'Night, dude." He said, pushing up from the bed. Then after about half a second, he sat back down. "Or, you know, I don't have to. I could camp out here, do the sleepover thing. Your call entirely."

Ryan's eyes looked so surprised, almost overjoyed as he stared back at Seth in complete awe for a few moments. Then he gave a tiny, grateful smile and wordlessly scooted sideways, making more room on the left side of the bed.

"Cool." Seth said as he splayed down on the mattress, shifting a restlessly until he found a comfortable position. He rolled onto his side and quirked an eyebrow at his foster brother playfully. "But, you know, you're kinda on my side of the bed, so if you don't mind switching…"

Ryan silenced him with a smack to his chest. "Good night, Seth." He said, and closed his eyes.

Seth sighed. "'Night." He said back, taking one of the extra, folded blankets from the end of the bed and spreading it over himself. Closing his eyes contentedly, he smiled into the darkness. This was definitely alright. Just so long as they both weren't under the same covers.

That would be minty.

* * *

AN: Hope it was good. I was extremely tempted to break it into two separate chapters, but didn't on a whim. So tell me what you thought. Cheers!

-Vancouverite


	18. Normality

AN: First of all, thanks heaps and mounds for the reviews as usual. Just want to touch on a few things people say from time to time in the emails and relentless reviews that I bask in – people are so funny sometimes.

I get so many people telling me I make them cry – holy crap! My writing is capable of that? I mean, I'm definitely not made of stone myself, I but I've only gotten teary-eyed writing one of my chapters so far, and that was the last one, seventeen…but whoa, glad I can really get people emotional, that's good to know!

The other thing I find quite funny is that I get indefinite people asking Ryan to get better, and the same amount telling me to torture him more…I laugh. It's great, really. But folks, he's at my capable fingers. No telling what shall happen next. I don't know why, but the chapter outlines I wrote are now shot to hell and I refuse to use them. I want to see where this story takes me. It ain't over yet.

A final note – so many people want to see poor Ryan lose his hair! I'm getting there people, don't rush me! Kidding, kidding. But more importantly what I want to point out is that not ALL people lose their hair because of chemotherapy. Some just don't, honestly. So yes…guess you'll have to read to find out more.

And Beachtree…what, are you trying to top yourself with even more thoughtful, extensive, LONG reviews? You're a machine, woman! I…I love it!

Sorry for using up time…and space. Please, do read on. And review. Of course.

**FADING – Chapter Eighteen**

**Monday**

For some bizarre, indescribable reason, it didn't feel like any ordinary Monday. Ryan couldn't quite put his finger on it, but as he opened his eyes and sighed, stretching slightly and wincing at the familiar stab of pain coursing up and down his spine, he knew that somehow this day wasn't going to be like the others he'd had so far.

The bed was really, surprisingly, abnormally warm – in a good way. Ryan usually had to wrap himself in his blankets before even attempting to get out of bed most mornings. If it were a day that he would in fact even get out of bed at all, that is. But this morning as the bright sunlight flooded in through the window and shone directly in his eyes and warmed the skin on his face, the bed felt like a cocoon of heat.

And it was moving…on its own.

Ryan shifted in surprise and turned his head to the left only to sigh in relief and sink back down into his pillows, closing his eyes.

"You totally forgot I was here, didn't you?" Seth chirped happily as he rested his head on a fist, peering down at Ryan with wide, amused eyes. His tousled brown curls were in disarray and he had an almost laughable pillow crease across the side of his face. But the humongous grin spread from ear to ear was what really made Ryan want to laugh. "You so did, Ryan. Don't try to deny it. You should have seen your expression. It was the face of a person seeing Julie Cooper first thing in the morning without having a sufficient amount of caffeine in their system yet. My father _designed _that face, Ryan. It's momentary horror." He laughed, and then attempted to do a fairly good impression.

Ryan smiled and snatched the pillow out from under his foster brother's head, smacking Seth across the face with it. "I did not look like that." He growled half-heartedly.

"Oh, you _so_ did not just do that." Seth countered, grabbing back his pillow and sitting up in bed, swinging it back with two hands.

Grabbing it before the offending object could hit its target, Ryan snatched it out of Seth's grip and started beating him until he was lying on his back, cries of "uncle" ringing shrilly through the room.

"What in God's name is going on in here…?" Sandy's voice began out in the hall, his slipper-clad footsteps pounding the carpet until the guestroom door swung open and he stood silently in the doorway, dark hair standing straight up on his head, his navy bathrobe hanging open.

Ryan and Seth froze in their positions, Ryan's face flushed and a pillow poised over his head, ready to swing. Seth lay like an over-turned bug, his arms and legs in the air helplessly evading the attack. Both boys stared at the doorway, looking at Sandy with innocent eyes.

His mouth hanging open in shock, Sandy finally let out a tiny "oh". A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of his lips before he tried to look serious again, glaring between his two sons. "You do know it's six in the morning, right?"

"Yes." Ryan and Seth answered simultaneously.

Sandy nodded. "Okay." He muttered to himself, another tiny smile. "Just checking." Then with a shake of his head, he turned and started down the hall.

"Man, is he ever not a morning pers…" Seth's words were muffled by the mouthful of pillow that hit him squarely in the face. When he opened his eyes again, Ryan was grinning smugly. "Dude! That was so not cool, we were on a time out!" Seth exclaimed, frantically fixing his hair.

Ryan shook his head. "No…" he said, pretending to think. "You didn't call it. That doesn't count." He pointed out, his head cocked to one side,

Seth reached for a larger pillow. "Well, Rule Boy. Does this count?" he declared, and brought his weapon down across the top of Ryan's head.

"Seth, don't make me hurt you." Ryan warned, climbing up onto his knees and gripping his pillow in his right hand, glaring down at his foster brother menacingly.

With a laugh, Seth waggled an eyebrow. "Ohh, so you think you're tough, is that it, Ry?" He mocked, tightening his hold on the end of his pillow. Raising it again over his head, he prepared to make a hard hit. "Well I've got news for you, Kid Chino. I'm the bus driver, and I take everyone to school…"

A hand pulled the pillow out of his grasp as it had been hovering over his head, ready to hit its target. "Seth Ezekiel." Kirsten's voice began dangerously. "Tell me that if I hadn't stopped you, you wouldn't have hit Ryan in the face."

Ryan watched as the smile died from Seth's face almost comically and he slowly turned around to find his mother standing over him, glaring with angry, disapproving blue eyes. "Oh…kay…I wouldn't have." Seth began meekly. Then he looked away and grinned. "Except then it would have been a lame-ass pillow fight." He muttered under his breath.

Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. "Seth." She growled.

"Kirsten, I started it." Ryan jumped in, unable to keep from chuckling at the fear in Seth's eyes. "It was harmless, I swear. I'm fine. Better than fine." He promised, looking at her more seriously.

Her face softening slightly, Kirsten placed the pillow carefully back on the bed. She tried to smile at Ryan and still glare at Seth at the same time. "Better than fine?" She repeated.

Ryan nodded. "I…feel really good today." He said, looking down at the mess of blankets tangled around his legs. When he glanced up again, Seth and Kirsten were smiling at him, their eyes shining. Blushing slightly, Ryan looked away again. "What?" He laughed.

"That's…really great, man." Seth said. His face was practically beaming.

Still smiling, Kirsten leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Want some breakfast?" She asked him softly.

Swallowing, Ryan nodded, and looked her in the eye. "Yeah." He said, grinning lopsidedly. Then he cleared his throat. "Seth and I woke you guys up so early…we'll make breakfast. As a peace offering."

"Whoa, dude. Don't speak for me. Mom, I do not condone this." Seth spoke up instantly, glancing between his mother and Ryan with a look of panic on his face. "No, no, the pillow fight was merely a pre-sleep-in interlude, if you will. Plenty of morning left, plenty of dozing to do." He said, and flopped back down onto the bed, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes.

Kirsten hit him in the face with Ryan's pillow.

"Hey!" Seth cried, sitting up and rubbing his nose. "I thought you said no more hitting!"

Shrugging, Kirsten tossed the pillow back to her foster son. "No. I said no more hitting _Ryan_. You're fair game." She smirked, throwing Ryan one last smile before striding out of the room.

Seth looked pointedly at Ryan and glanced at the pillow in his hands, then back to his face. "Don't even think about it, dude."

Kirsten stopped in the doorway and turned back around, a puzzled expression on her face. "When Sandy said that you two were both in here, in the same bed, having a pillow fight, I was surprised." She began, cocking her head. "What I _had_ to come see for myself was Seth Cohen up before noon in the summer."

Seth blew out a long sigh and gave his mother a withering look as he swung his legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself up. "People change, mother." He said, smiling at her innocently until she left the room. Then he turned to glance at his foster brother. "Come on, bro. Let's go make your God forsaken breakfast." Seth relented, shuffling across the floor.

Ryan threw a pillow at his retreating back. "Lead the way, bus driver."

* * *

"I must be dreaming. I haven't smelled bacon in…" Sandy trailed off, his eyes unfocused as he got lost in thought, his hands busily making a well-perfected knot in his tie. "I can't remember the last time I smelled bacon."

Ryan grinned at him over his shoulder and returned his attention to the pan spitting and hissing on the element.

Seth came up behind him and clapped a hand on his foster brother's shoulder. "Yes father, Ryan here volunteered us for breakfast duty." He said with a sigh. "And now, as you can see, we are slaving away over a hot stove to prepare you an adequate meal." He swiped at his brow dramatically.

"Seth, shut up." Ryan warned, pointing metal tongs at his son's chest. "I only put you in charge of bagels. That's the easiest job there is."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Oh, Ryan. Bite your tongue." He shook his head, staring into Ryan's confused, bewildered eyes with a look of amusement. "The bagel is an art…"

"See, that's what I've been trying to tell you." Seth heaved a sigh, looking triumphant. "Ryan, dude, you must have known this. You've been living in the Cohen household…how long?" He asked sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes, Ryan glared at the two Cohen men and hunched over the frying pan. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry." He relented. "Go, Seth. Perfect the art that is the bagel. I'll never belittle it again."

Seth grinned. "That's more like it."

Kirsten came into the kitchen still wrapped snugly in her bathrobe as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Nothing beats bacon." His wife sighed, a blissful expression on her face. She peered over Ryan's shoulder at the food cooking on the stove and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, sweetie." She said into his ear.

"But bacon doesn't beat bagels, right mom?" Seth asked frantically as the button popped on the toaster and he retrieved two toasted slices.

Kirsten pursed her lips but then shook her head. "Hmm…nope. Sorry, Seth." She said as she took a seat at the kitchen table, cradling her mug with both hands. "I'd take bacon over bagels any day."

Ryan shot Seth and Sandy an "I told you so" look. "See." He said smugly.

Narrowing his eyes at his mother, Seth scowled. "Turncoat traitor." He muttered under his breath.

As Ryan and Seth set platefuls of food around the table, Sandy took a seat beside his wife, leaning across the gap to give her a kiss. "This bathrobe thing is…" he began, looking her up and down.

Kirsten's face fell slightly. "Pathetic?" she asked, her eyebrows arched.

"Disturbingly hot." Sandy corrected her, rewarded with a grin and another kiss.

"Ugh. No. Not now. There's food present, you guys." Seth whined as he and Ryan sat down at the usual spots and began pouring orange juice into their glasses. "Mom, I know you're enjoying your morning off, but please. Put something on. This doesn't feel…" He grimaced. "Right. You're supposed to be sporting the power suit, ranting and raving about how much you're pissed at grandpa and hating Julie Cooper."

Smiling smugly, Kirsten shook her head. "Not today." She said with a happy sigh. "The next few weeks are purely relaxation. No meetings, no nothing." She nodded to herself as she heaped bacon onto her plate

Sandy looked at Ryan briefly from across the table, and saw the uncertain, guilty look in his eyes. He presumed that Kirsten hadn't told the boys yet that she had been semi-fired. That being her choice, of course. "Honey, taking the rest of the summer off was a great idea. You really needed it." Sandy told her, and she looked at him knowingly. "Frankly, I'm a bit jealous." He chuckled.

"But mom, what are you going to do with yourself?" Seth asked curiously. "I mean, I can't remember the last time you took a vacation…do you even understand the meaning of the word?"

Shooting their son a glare, Kirsten pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'll have you know I've already planned my day." She grinned triumphantly, and began counting off on her fingers. "Yogalates at ten, a massage at noon, lunch back here with you boys at one thirty…"

"Ah! Stop right there, mom." Seth exclaimed, covering his ears with both hands. "The whole point of a vacation is to _not _have a schedule. By planning out your whole day you're entirely defeating the purpose of sloth and relaxation." He explained with a wise and knowing look.

Ryan cocked his head to one side. "Isn't sloth one of the seven deadly sins?" He asked playfully.

"Ignore him." Seth nodded to Ryan, and Sandy couldn't help but share a laugh with his foster son. "Mother, de-schedule your day. Erase the plans. Start afresh. Throw caution to the wind…"

"Seth." Kirsten interrupted, silencing him with a look. "I get the picture."

Seth nodded. "As long as we're reached an understanding."

Kirsten's expression turned serious, and Sandy watched as she looked across the table at Ryan. "While we're on the topic of schedules…" She tried to begin casually. Ryan looked up and they locked eyes. "You were supposed to have a chemo session today at the hospital. Do you remember?" Kirsten asked, smiling gently.

Ryan cleared his throat and abruptly put down his fork, staring at his food in dismay. "Uh, no." he said quietly. Then he glanced up at Sandy and Kirsten. "I forgot. Sorry."

"Whoa, whoa…" Seth interjected, staring at his mother. "I heard a 'supposed to' in there." He said tilting his head in a gesture of curiosity.

Her expression bemused, Sandy watched as Kirsten strained to mask a smile as she dabbed her mouth with the corner of her napkin, replacing it carefully on her lap, her eyes lowered all the while. "Well, when I talked to Dr. Collins yesterday we decided that after the beach incident that today's appointment would depend on how Ryan was feeling." She explained slowly, and then she looked up and locked eyes with Ryan again. "And I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago. We decided that you're too sick today," her eyes flashed in amusement, "and rescheduled for tomorrow."

Sandy watched as Ryan's face lit up into a hesitant smile, and he shared the barest of looks with Kirsten, their eyes meeting silently. His wife just nodded.

"Oh, talk about karma, bro!" Seth crowed, throwing his hands up in the air and swiveling in his seat to look at his foster brother. "This is awesome. It calls for celebration, dude. I'm calling Summer. Marissa, even. If you want, I mean. And we'll…go swimming. Maybe even down to the pier. Sweet Moses, the possibilities are endless!"

"Seth." Sandy warned, holding up a hand. "Slow down. Ryan is just getting over being sick; you don't want to do too much too soon. Maybe you should just take it easy today." He shrugged, seeing his son's crestfallen look.

"Sandy." Ryan's eyes were wide and hopeful. "I want to go out. I need to do…something." He glanced at Seth, and then dragged his eyes up to look between Sandy and Kirsten. "If that's okay, I mean." His blue eyes pleaded.

Sandy felt Kirsten's hand snake into his lap and grab his own, giving it a tender squeeze. "Of course, honey." She told him, a warm, practically ecstatic smile on her face.

Ryan smiled – a real, genuine smile, and grabbed a piece of bacon, happily popping it into his mouth. Seth's erratic banter demanded his attention, and Ryan happily obliged. Sandy grinned at his wife, and then resumed eating his breakfast.

* * *

"Chino, do you ever need a tan." Summer said with a grimace as she floated leisurely on an inflatable pool chair. She looked at Ryan critically from where he lay on one of the deck recliners on the patio, wearing only his swim trunks and a scowl. Summer hadn't seen Ryan without a shirt on since before he had cancer, and he looked even thinner than she had imagined he would. "You're beyond pasty now. You make Cohen look like Bermuda Bob."

Seth swatted her arm as he swam over to her chair, pulling his goggles up onto his forehead to give her a wounded look. "Hey!" He exclaimed, pouting. "And who the hell is Bermuda Bob?"

Ryan didn't bother to open his eyes. "Kinda the purpose of the sunbathing, Summer." He told her, and from beside him in a matching chair, Marissa giggled. "But thanks for the input." Ryan said sarcastically with a mock-salute.

"No problem." Summer said, tucking a stray piece of hair back up into her bun. The only way she'd allowed Cohen to persuade her to go swimming with him was on the condition that her hair didn't get wet. Chlorine was a bitch. "Because if Nicole Kidman and Casper the ghost hooked up, you'd be their offspring."

Marissa tried to look shocked and stop the smile that spread onto her face at the same time. "Summer!" She laughed, glancing at Ryan.

But Ryan was smiling, too. "Well, it's true!" Summer defended herself, laying back and adjusting the straps of her bikini.

Seth's head popped up at her side from beneath the surface and she glared at him warningly as he grabbed her armrest. "You've got an amazing bedside manner, Summer." He said sarcastically.

"What bedside?" Summer rolled her eyes and flicked away a drop of water that threatened to roll off the plastic and onto her shoulder. "Look at him. Does he look like he's in need of someone to patronize him right now?" She pointed poolside and they both watched for a few moments as Ryan talked animatedly with Marissa, just barely making out the words they exchanged.

Seth nodded. "You have a point." He narrowed his eyes and watched them more closely. "Did she just say the word 'therapy'?" He asked in disbelief.

With a nod, Summer flicked Seth's forehead to get his attention and give Ryan and Marissa some privacy. "Her mom convinced her to go back to her psychiatrist. You know, after the whole drinking thing…" She watched as Seth nodded, wincing at the memory. "Yeah, well, between me and Julie Cooper, we make a pretty good team. After a bit of cajoling Marissa gave in and now she's going twice a week." She nodded to herself triumphantly.

"Alright Summer!" Seth declared, raising a hand for her to high-five.

"Cohen!" She cried as water dripped from his elbow onto her perfectly tanned stomach. Reaching out, she smacked him across the top of his head. "Get any more water on me and you're done for. Clear?"

Seth gulped. "Crystal." They fell into silence again, Summer resting peacefully on her raft as Seth rested his head on her arm, their gaze slowly wandering back to the deck chairs where Ryan and Marissa were turned onto their sides, their eyes locked as their conversation continued. "Think they're gonna be okay now? Like, is it going to ease smoothly back into Ryan and Marissa mode?"

Summer didn't look away from her two friends. "I'm not sure." She replied honestly. "I think she really hurt him. And Marissa knows that. She told me that they just have to take it slow. I guess we'll just see where it goes from there." She sighed softly.

Suddenly Seth's head snapped back to Summer and he stared at her, his eyes wide. "Shit. Ryan saw me. He _so_ knows we're talking about him." He said nervously, bringing up a hand to shield the side of his face from Ryan's glare.

With a roll of her eyes, Summer lay her head back on her inflated pillow. "Cohen, grow up." She said, peering at him from under her sunglasses. "What are you, in the fifth grade? Ryan won't care…" she looked up just in time to see the other boy sprinting across the cement to launch himself into the pool, careening towards Seth and Summer with a devilish grin on his face.

Summer's float upturned in one fluid motion and she was flipped off with a shriek of surprise. When she kicked frantically to breach the surface, she gasped for air spluttering and cursing as she blinked water from her eyes, Marissa's delighted laughs ringing through her ears from her lawn chair. Letting out a growl of anger, Summer whipped around to let out a string of profanities at Ryan's giggling, wet face when a hand wrapped around her foot and pulled her under again.

When she gave Seth a well-deserved underwater punch and swam her way to the top again, she smacked Ryan's arm and shoved Seth's head under the water as she made her way back to her raft. "Ugh, I hate you two!" She screamed, glaring at them as she plucked her sunglasses from the water. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to straighten my hair?"

Ryan just laughed at her. "I'd be worried if I did." He chuckled, holding up his hands in front of himself when Summer shot him a dangerous glare. "Sorry. You were having a heated discussion. Looked like you needed cooling off." He grinned at her menacingly.

"Shut up." Summer snapped as she wrung out her sopping hair. She looked up to see Marissa standing at the ledge of the pool, her face beet red from laughing as she clutched at her stomach and pointed at Summer. "You think it's so funny?" Summer reached out and grabbed Marissa's ankle, pulling hard until her best friend lost her balance and teetered towards the pool with a startled cry.

Summer didn't mind the splash. When Marissa broke the surface and gaped at her friend in disbelief, Summer just grinned at her sweetly. "Summer!" Marissa exclaimed, and proceeded to start a full fledged splashing fight.

From the corner of her eye, Summer saw Ryan grin at Seth one more time and swim to the ladder out of the pool. Once he was on land again, he reached for his towel and began drying himself off. In the middle of finger drying his hair, he stopped suddenly, and his face froze in shock, his eyes wide and his skin draining of color before her eyes. Summer stopped splashing and watched him in concern. Ryan stood like that for what seemed like forever, and Summer's pulse started pounding in her ears as she struggled to understand what could possibly have gone wrong.

When Ryan finally pulled a hand away from his head and Summer caught sight of the small clump of hair he held in a white knuckled grip, her breath caught in her lungs and she felt her heart sink. Summer's hand flung out and she grabbed blindly for her boyfriend, gripping his arm until her nails made marks in his skin. "Seth." She managed to squeak out.

Ryan tore his panic stricken eyes away from his hand and glanced fleetingly towards his friends for one agonizing moment. Then his mouth clamped shut and his face hardened as he spun on his heel and practically ran into the house.

Before the door could even shut behind him, Seth broke away from Summer and swam quickly to the ledge of the pool and hastily pulled himself up onto the patio. She watched wordlessly as he didn't even bother to get a towel as jogged into the house, leaving a trail of water behind him.

* * *

Ryan looked at himself in the mirror, and haunted, devastated eyes stared back. He checked once more to ensure that the door to the bathroom was locked before he brought his hand up and finally unclenched his fingers, staring with morbid fascination at the small handful of hair that lay in his palm.

He swallowed over the lump that had formed in his throat. He hadn't been pulling that hard. He was sure of it. One minute he was drying his hair, and the next minute it was in his hand. Just like that.

Forcing his eyes away from his shaking hand, Ryan held his fist over the trash can and slowly turned until his palm was facing the floor. He watched as the hair fell to the ceramic bottom before he forced his mind to start working again, and frantically he covered the evidence with balled up wads of Kleenex.

_It never happened_, he told himself.

That done, he leaned against the counter and willed his heart to stop pounding in his chest, for his labored breathing to slow down and return to normal. After a moment Ryan opened his eyes again and glared hard at his reflection. He wondered briefly what he could have possibly done for his body to betray him. He thought he'd been lucky. He thought that this was one thing he wouldn't have to go through.

He hadn't expected to be wrong.

Leaning forward he inspected the top of his head in the mirror. He almost couldn't find the spot that the hair could come from. Gently, he skimmed his fingers across the top of his head, giving an experimental tug every now and then. Nothing. Maybe it had just been a fluke.

Someone knocked on the door. "Ryan?" Seth's worried voice came from the other side. "You in there, bud?"

Ryan held his breath and didn't say anything. Maybe Seth wouldn't know he was there. Maybe he'd go away and Ryan wouldn't have to face everyone.

The door handle jiggled and then there was another, gentler knock. "Ryan, come on." Seth's voice pleaded, and Ryan let out the breath he'd been holding. There was no way he could escape him now. "Ry, just let me in, bro. Just let me talk to you for a moment."

Closing his eyes, Ryan breathed deeply for a few moments. He wanted more than anything to tell him to go away. He didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone, or have anyone look at him. He just wanted to tell Seth to leave. But he knew he couldn't afford to do that anymore. So reluctantly, he opened the door.

Seth was leaning silently against the doorjamb wearing a navy t-shirt that was already soaking through at the chest. His usually springy brown curls were wet and matted against his head, and he had a painfully sad look in his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched a few times as he grasped for words, his eyes dancing across Ryan's face in concern. "Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Ryan sucked in a breath and looked away, nodding. "Yeah." He said hurriedly, easing out the doorway and standing awkwardly in the hall, his towel wrapped around his shoulders and his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Let me get you another towel." Seth said as he disappeared for a moment, holding out a large, fluffy white towel when he returned, and draping it around his foster brother's frame.

Ryan hadn't realized he'd been shivering until he registered the sound of his teeth chattering loudly in his ears. "Thanks."

Seth nodded, and bit his lip, watching Ryan in trepidation for a moment. Then he sighed. "Come back outside, Ryan." He begged, even though he knew that his friend would say no. "It doesn't matter. I promise, it doesn't. Just come back out and sit in the sun like you were doing. I won't let Summer make anymore pale jokes." He tried to smile, but failed miserably.

Shaking his head, Ryan gave Seth a barely reassuring look. "No thanks. I'm going to go upstairs. I'm really tired." He looked away and stared at the floor. Then he gestured out to the patio through the window. "You go back, though. The girls are waiting for you." He took a few backward steps down the hall.

Seth went to follow him. "Ryan…"

But it was too much, and he couldn't stand there anymore. "I'm sorry." Ryan said, glancing up at Seth once before turning and heading for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He didn't look back because he didn't want to see Seth standing below watching him, with that look on his face.

* * *

Seth turned on the tap and ran the soapy dish in his hands under the stream of water, letting the suds wash down the drain. He knew his parents would probably have a heart attack if they knew he was voluntarily doing the dishes, but it was only because if he didn't he was sure he'd find Ryan doing them later. Ever since Ryan had reappeared from his bedroom late that afternoon, he'd suddenly had a burning desire to do chores. Why, Seth couldn't possibly imagine. But before an unusually quiet and somewhat awkward family dinner, Ryan had managed to do two loads of laundry, clean the pool house, and change his sheets.

The parental units had asked their son about Ryan's odd change in mood from that morning, and Seth had reluctantly, quietly, told Sandy what had happened as they were watching TV before dinner. His father's face had fallen and immediately he had wanted to go upstairs and talk to his foster son, but Seth had managed to convince him that confrontation was the last thing Ryan needed at the moment. What he needed and was desperately seeking was to forget it had even happened.

When the last dish had been loaded into the dishwasher and the final piece of china lovingly hand cleaned and left drying in the rack, Seth wiped his hands on a towel and shoved them in his pockets, surveying the clean kitchen in silence. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

When he walked into the living room his parents were cuddled up on the couch, wrapped in one another's arms as they gazed into each other's eyes instead of the flickering of the television set in the dim light. Seth was tempted to making his usual quip about PDA's, but found, surprisingly, that he didn't have the energy. "Hey." He said as he neared the couch.

His mother looked up at him and smiled. "Hey there." Kirsten greeted, and then her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What were you doing in the kitchen just now?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing." Seth answered instantly, and looked around. "Where's Ryan?"

Sandy's expression was grim as he nodded to the staircase. "Last I saw him he was in his room." He said, and sighed. "Folding laundry. I threatened to ground him, but he called my bluff."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Great." He muttered and trotted for the stairs. "Somebody's got to stop that kid once and for all." He declared, and left his parents to each other's company once more. Maybe a little play station would do just the trick.

As he walked quickly down the hall, his goal Ryan's guest room, he passed his bathroom on the way and couldn't help but notice the door slightly ajar and the light on inside, flooding out into the hall. What made him stop dead in his tracks was the strangely familiar buzzing sound coming from inside. Silently, he backtracked and hesitated outside the door before slowly pushing it open.

The sound was familiar because it was the annoying hum of an electric razor Summer had bought him for his birthday. After its first use he had nicked himself beyond belief and now it forever lived in a drawer beside his sink, only making appearances when Summer was over and should for some bizarre reason decide to inspect his hygienic tools.

Ryan stood over the sink, the razor buzzing in his hand as he moved it slowly across his scalp, taking off row after row of hair that fell into a growing pile in the sink, leaving his hair shorn extremely short, very circa Justin Timberlake in the breakout artist days.

Seth didn't know what to do or say, and found himself hovering silently in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing helplessly like a goldfish he'd once had when he was eight. But he must have breathed loudly or made some other unpredictable body noise because suddenly Ryan whirled around and stared at him like he'd been caught red handed, the razor still buzzing annoyingly in his hand.

"Seth." He gaped, his eyes as wide as saucers. "What…I…" his voice trailed off and he stumbled for words, unable to tear his gaze away from Seth's face.

And there they were, standing a mere three feet away from one another, gaping like Bubbles the fish. Seth wanted to either say something encouraging, ask a question, or just turn around and abruptly leave. He contemplated the last choice the longest, because he was momentarily afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak, he'd burst out laughing because with half of his head in a buzz cut, Ryan looked like some form of a demented Bozo the Clown, a comment he was sure his foster brother wouldn't appreciate.

But words almost never failed Seth Cohen, and somehow they pushed their way past his lips. "This is a good look for you, man." He said, nodding decisively as he eyed Ryan's head with an approving look. "Um, however, might I ask what spurred this little style session on?"

Ryan's defensive posture drooped and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He turned off that incredibly annoying razor and looked at Seth with a defeated look in his eyes. "I don't know how to explain it to you, Seth." He mumbled tiredly.

Stopping only to close the bathroom door at his back, Seth crossed his arms and locked onto Ryan's gaze. "Try me." He countered.

"Look, after today it's become pretty apparent that inevitably my hair is gonna be gone, one way or another." Ryan began, his voice nearly shouting, which seemed to surprise them both. "You have no idea what I'm going through, Seth. Everyday. I have no control over this whatsoever and I'm not used to that. So right now I'm taking control of the one thing I can, _while _I still can." His voice trailed off and his eyes fell to the floor, resigned and looking terribly alone.

Seth didn't really know what to say to that. He was still standing there looking just as defensive as Ryan had looked moments before, and he couldn't deny that he felt a little bit of anger. He wanted to shout back, curse Ryan out for not letting him in, or letting anyone in, and that was why no one knew what he was going through. But they'd had that fight enough times now and it never seemed to get them anywhere.

Ryan shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't understand." He said softly.

Suddenly Seth moved on autopilot. His feet propelled him forward and he took the razor out of Ryan's hand, ignoring his brother's look of outrage. Then he thumbed the button on and without a moment of hesitation, ran the buzzing blades through his own dark, curly hair, watching in the mirror as Ryan's face paled with shock, his eyes widening, and his jaw hanging open. "Seth…" he gasped in disbelief as locks of Seth's famously coiffed hair joined his own in the sink. "What are you doing?"

Seth barely looked up from his task. "Doing mine, and then finishing yours." He replied shortly, then returning his eyes back into the mirror as he went to work shaving his hair down to a neat, short half-inch.

"But Seth…" Ryan was still gaping at him, his expression a combination of gratitude and surprise. "Your hair is your thing…you don't even let people touch it."

With a shrug, Seth continued cutting. "It'll grow back." Then he glanced over his shoulder and grinned lopsidedly. "Well, quit staring at me. Sit down. I'm almost done, then we're moving onto yours."

Very slowly, Ryan relented and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. From where he was sitting, Seth could still see the wide blue eyes staring at his reflection in the mirror. Momentarily, Seth looked back at him, still struck by the utter confusion and dumbfounded look of awe on his foster brother's face. "Dude, what?" He asked, still grinning.

Ryan's mouth turned up into a ghost of a smile. "Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

* * *

AN: That last situation I borrowed from an episode of Sex And the City, I have to come by it honestly. It's an amazing exchange between two characters, and this pair is so vastly different from the two used in the other show that I felt it was safe to use. It fit so damned well…I hope you liked it. Review please! Cheers.

-Vancouverite


	19. Billy Idol, Bagels, and Birthdays

AN: Sorry this chapter took so long – I've been busy. Well, if a vacation counts as busy…but I got to do a whole lot of thinking and planning, and now I'm quite ready to handle the rest of this story. And I was kind of naughty…I started something another fic. But I don't know if it will go anymore. I'm just experimenting.

Anyway, this chapter is done. I hope everyone likes it! SO many people wanted to see Sandy and Kirsten's reactions to the head-shaving incident, and I wanted to write it just as badly. So here it is. Thank you so much for the reviews – lots this time! I'm loving it. Keep it up!

* * *

**FADING – Chapter Nineteen**

**Monday Night**

"Ow! Seth, be careful. You almost cut me!"

"Quit whining. I'm almost done."

"Well would you hurry up? It tickles."

"Ryan, first it hurt and now it tickles. What's the matter with you?"

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

With an exasperated look, Seth took his eyes off the top of Ryan's crown and stepped back a foot, pointing to his own very, very short head of hair. "Uh, hello!" He exclaimed.

Ryan smiled meekly and relaxed in his seat with a satisfied look on his face. "Good point." He mumbled, smiling at Seth's reflection in the mirror.

Shaking his head, Seth lowered the buzzing razor back to his foster brother's head, starting at his hairline and cutting in a straight row until he reached the nape of his neck. "Now, are you sure you don't want me to leave a mohawk or a mullet or anything?" He joked, looking Ryan in the eye with a serious expression. "Because now is the time to make these kinds of decisions." he said knowingly.

"Seth." Ryan hissed, shooting him a glare. "Just cut, okay? No mullets, no mohawks, no lightening bolts. Nothing." He insisted emphatically.

Seth's eyes widened and he grinned. "Lightening bolts! Dude, why didn't you suggest that before? That's so Billy Idol of you. Now we're getting somewhere. How do you feel about…"

Ryan whirled around in his seat and grabbed for the razor Seth held in his hand. "That's it. I don't trust you anymore." He said, sounding slightly afraid, and tried to snatch the offending object away, but Seth evaded the attack, grinning widely. "Give me that thing, Seth. I'll finish myself." He demanded, holding out his hand.

"Ryan, have a little faith, man. We're almost done. Just cool your jets and settle." He waited until Ryan's expression mellowed and he turned back around, sitting silently facing the front, though his eyes still glared daggers at Seth through the mirror. Seth held up his hands innocently and smiled. "Ry, dear friend and sort of brother, how can you not trust me?" He asked sweetly.

Still glaring, Ryan bared his teeth. "Seth." He snapped. "The words 'Billy Idol' were mentioned."

Seth shrugged, grinning. "Point taken." He smirked. "Now just take a chill pill and relax. I'm almost done." He watched Ryan finally nod before he continued.

He was on his last run with the razor when they heard a knock on the door. "What's going on in here, you two?" Sandy's voice asked curiously from the other side.

Without warning, Ryan spun in his chair to look at Seth with wide, panicked eyes, causing the blades to veer off to one side, basically achieving the zigzag look Ryan had specifically banned from the head shaving equation. Seth would have laughed if the situation weren't so dire. "Uh, nothing, dad." Seth called back.

There was a pause. "What's that noise?"

Seth's fumbling fingers couldn't find the button fast enough, so he reached for the cord and yanked it out of the wall. At this point it didn't really matter if he ruined the socket, or hell, ended up electrocuting himself in the process. His father walking in on this situation without proper rehearsal on their part could possibly result in far more painful circumstances. And he meant from the Kirsten, not the Sandy. "What noise?" he asked innocently, at which moment Ryan apparently couldn't take the tension and bizarre circumstances anymore, because he started snickering.

"I'm coming in." Sandy's voice informed them, and then the door squeaked as it slowly opened. A head popped in, and Seth heard Ryan hold his breath, so he held his as well. It seemed like the right thing to do.

A mop of dark hair framed two dark, startled eyes as Sandy quickly scanned the room and then settled on the two figures in front of him. Seth felt Ryan tense as the eyes roved over his foster brother first, and Seth knew he wasn't the only one that saw the distinct pity and sadness that practically filled Sandy's eyes as he looked at Ryan. Seth heard the breath catch, and saw the shoulders tense.

He cleared his throat. "Dad…"

That brought Sandy's eyes to him, and it was as if instantaneously, the expression on his face changed. He looked at Seth in a way that no one had ever done before, and he immediately felt uncomfortable. Crossing his arms, Seth cleared his throat and brought up one hand to the top of his head, rubbing back and forth. It felt incredibly weird, and was going to take some getting used to. But on the plus side, it was definitely low maintenance. And it felt oddly soothing.

No one had said anything in a long time now. "Uh…Dad?" Seth began, and Sandy looked him in the eye, almost startled by the disruption of the quiet. "Are…you okay?"

Sandy's face was still deadpan. "Fine." He answered immediately, his eyes flicking between Seth and Ryan as slowly, a kind of pleasantly surprised smile turned up the corners of his lips. "Just fine. Might I ask what you two are doing in here?" he asked, now trying to look and sound casual as he leaned against one arm in the doorframe.

Ryan turned to look at Seth helplessly, his jaw opening and closing as he searched for words. "Uh…" Seth began, thinking frantically. "Changing it up? Going for the Sinead O'Connor look? Joining the army?" Ryan elbowed him in the side. If he hadn't, Seth probably would have gone on.

"Uh huh." Sandy chuckled lightly, looking unconvinced. But he still smiled and looked at Seth and Ryan with that muted, happy-go-lucky look on his face that made Seth feel like he was in some corny after-school-special.

"Not so believable, huh?" Seth sighed.

"Not a chance."

"When should I have stopped?"

Ryan snorted. "Probably at 'uh'."

Seth rolled his eyes. "So which suggestion was the most believable?" he asked, glancing between his father and foster brother.

Sandy peered over his shoulder before grinning back at his son. "I suggest you figure it out soon." He said, jerking a thumb behind him. "Because I think I hear your mother." His eyes sparkled, and Seth realized he was enjoying this way too much.

"Dad!" Seth exclaimed, bursting forward and poking his head out into the hall. Sure enough, the top of a blonde head was jogging up the staircase and heading in their direction. "Stall her." Seth ordered in a whisper.

His dad was still laughing. "Are you kidding?" He asked rhetorically, wiping tears from his eyes, his face beet red. "And miss her reaction to this little Hell's Angels convention? Not on your life, son."

Seth shared a look of combined horror and betrayal with Ryan, before they both returned their gazes to Sandy, crossing their arms and fixing him with glowering expressions. "Traitor." Ryan huffed.

"Boys? Sandy, did you find them?" Kirsten's voice floated in from the hall, the sound nearing as well as her gentle footfalls. Again, Seth joined his foster brother in the breath-holding experience, and faced the open doorway with wide eyes.

"There you are, I…oh my God!" Kirsten appeared in the bathroom door just long enough for her blue eyes to double in size as a hand flew to her open mouth, gaping at Seth and Ryan in shock.

Seth grinned cheekily. "Hey, mom." He gestured to Ryan, and then his own head. "You like?"

Several moments of heavy silence interspersed with Sandy's muffled chuckles went by, his mother's eyes dancing between first Ryan, then Seth. She looked confused, and slightly horrified. But as the seconds ticked by, the shock slowly wore off and she just looked perplexed. "Boys…" She began, finally lowering her hand and taking a step further into the room. "What possessed you?" She asked.

Dramatically, Seth gave an exasperated sigh. "But mom! All the cool kids are doing it!" he exclaimed.

Out of nowhere, Sandy jumped in. "I like it." He said, and Kirsten whirled around to stare at her husband gaping in a combination of horror and disgust. "What? I do. It's very…" He looked at Seth for help.

Seth scratched his chin. "Gandhi?"

"Try again." Sandy scoffed.

"Michael Stipe?"

"Who?"

"_REM_, dad."

"Oh, right, right. Better."

Kirsten glared at them both. "Quit naming bald people!" she exclaimed, walking up to Ryan, unable to hide her stare. Seth saw her mouth twitch slightly as she tried to lock eyes with her foster son, cautiously running her hand over the top of his head. "Is this…because of why I think it is?" she asked gently, but Ryan looked away.

Seth jumped in. "Because Ryan and I watched way too much of _the Fast and the Furious_ and totally thought that a huge buff guy isn't the only one that can pull off a crew cut? Then yes, it's what you thought." He nodded, maneuvering behind Ryan's chair to plug the electric razor back into the wall. "I mean, yeah the man's produced a load of below B-list movies ever since then, but most recently, _the Pacifier_? Total crap. And yes, there are those who believe that the man is gayer than the locker room at the Ice Capades, but Vin Diesel is very misunderstood, mom. Ryan and I are just trying to keep the good name alive." Over the top of Ryan's head, Seth locked eyes with his mother and pleaded – no, begged – her not to make a bit deal out of this.

He watched Kirsten swallow and briefly her hand came up to her mouth again, her fingers trailing across her lips as she looked down at the top of Ryan's almost-completed buzz cut. Her eyes flicked across the room to Sandy, who nodded at her as well, before she reached out to touch the top of Ryan's head again. "Well, I have to admit." She smiled slightly, and reached up to put her other hand on Seth's crown as well. "It's very soft."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Tough, mom." He sighed. "It's supposed to make us look tough. Not soft." He implored.

Kirsten nodded. "Oh, of course." She corrected herself, and smiled first at Ryan, and then at Seth, letting her eyes rest on her son's for a long moment, the look filled with pride. "My mistake." Her blue orbs glittered with unshed tears.

Clearing his throat, Seth nodded towards the door. "Now you two kids go on and get out of here." He said, nodding towards his mother and father. "Ryan, Mr. Buzz, and I have some unfinished business." He said, holding up the device with a grin.

"You named the razor?" Ryan said in disbelief, tilting his head back to give his foster brother a withering look. "That's sad, Seth. Even for you." He shook his head.

Flicking his thumb over the 'on' button, Seth held up the buzzing piece of machinery in his hand and grinned maniacally. "Ha, ha." He said sarcastically. "Just remember who is holding Mr. Buzz in his capable, hands, Ryan. I know you said no lightening bolts, but there definitely is a little space left right by your ear, here…"

"Seth." Kirsten's voice warned as she glared at him with wide, dangerous eyes. "No lightening bolts."

Ryan grinned. "Told you so."

Leaning down, Kirsten planted a kiss on the top of Ryan's head, smiling at him briefly. Then she put a hand to the back of Seth's neck and bowed his head, giving his newly cropped hair the same treatment. Then she let Sandy draw her out of the room. "See you boys in the morning. Don't stay up too late." She warned half-heartedly, smiling warmly.

"We won't." Seth answered simultaneously with his brother, and waited until the door shut behind his parents before he turned back to Ryan and prepared to lower the razor. "So." He began. "How do you feel about 'I heart wife beaters' on the back of your head?" he asked teasingly.

In the reflection of the mirror, Ryan rolled his eyes with a barely concealed grin. "Just cut it off, Seth." He said.

* * *

Predictably enough, Tuesday had been a grade A drag. As most chemo days were, Seth supposed. But something about this particular day felt somehow worse.

When his foster brother returned from the hospital hours later, it hadn't just been as bad as usual. Ryan was so close to unconsciousness, Sandy had practically carried him up the stairs to bed, and hardly any words exchanged as a flurry of activity took over the Cohen household. Seth wished he could just write it off as his imagination that somehow made that single day so much crappier than the others. He guessed it was because the day before had been so great, so effortlessly normal at times, that when their new reality decided to strike up again, Seth wasn't prepared.

But at least his hair was.

Seth didn't want to admit it, but this buzz cut thing really had its perks. Most mornings were spent with torturous styling sessions in front of a mirror, with combined forces of a well-used comb and a little bit of gel. Add that to the already time consuming job of pairing the perfect t-shirt with the right pair of jeans, and Seth's mornings were eaten up pretty fast. But now? Roll out of bed and he was good to go. Just a few seconds in front of his reflection to smooth down the eyebrows and pray to Moses that with each passing day it was just his imagination that made them look suspiciously furrier and not his Jewish father's whacked-out genes.

Having not seen Ryan conscious basically all of the day before, Seth was determined to make Wednesday awesome. He'd gotten up early for the second time in his life, called Summer and dragged her out of bed, as well, then went in the general direction of the kitchen and languidly made coffee and toasted bagels.

His mom was still in her bathrobe when she came down the stairs. "I could get used to this, Seth." She said, kissing his cheek and rubbing the top of his head as she stole a bagel from the plate he was setting out on the counter, then went in search of a clean mug. "Be careful, honey. You've been warned." Kirsten smirked.

"Good morning, mother." Seth rolled his eyes, and maneuvered through the fridge in his hunt for the cream cheese. "How's Ryan?"

With his back turned, Seth couldn't be certain if he'd heard her sigh, but he could picture the frown on his mother's face. "Still sleeping." She responded, and sat down at the table.

Seth let the fridge door fall shut as he turned around and set the desired container on the counter. "Yeah?" He asked, eyebrows frowning in slight concern. His mother was like Ryan – bad at lying – and right now he was fairly certain that she was hiding something. "He okay?" he added after a beat.

Kirsten nodded. "As well as he could be…considering. Since they've upped his chemo dosage, it's just harder on him. But Ryan's doing better than I expected, to be honest. And Dr. Collins loved the new do." She took a thoughtful sip of coffee. "He's exhausted, though. He could barely get out of bed when I checked on him last night." She sighed sadly, and shook her head.

Seth bit his lip as he located a knife and started smearing cream cheese on one of the golden brown salt bagels. He suddenly wasn't too terribly hungry anymore. "That's rough." He muttered, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah, it is." After that their chatter died down and Seth felt his mother's eyes on him as he cleaned up after his slight mess and positioned the perfectly prepared bagels in the center of the counter. "So, is Summer coming over today?" She asked perkily, and Seth looked up at her in surprise.

"Uh, yeah." He replied, nodding. "Why?"

With a shrug, Kirsten turned her attention to the front page of the newspaper that was currently residing on the table in front of her. "No reason." She said nonchalantly. "It's just good for Ryan to spend time with his friends right now. It's important for him to be happy." She smiled at her son, and continued reading.

Seth's eyes narrowed at her, but she just looked at him innocently. "Okay, Dr. Phil." He muttered, still staring at his mother quizzically.

The French doors opened and Sandy swooped in, flip flops clapping against his heels as he whipped damp hair out of his eyes. "Dr. Phil? Where?" He asked conversationally, making a beeline for the coffee maker and kissing his wife on the way.

Kirsten raised a hand. "That would be me." She grinned.

"How were the waves, dad?" Seth asked.

Raising a hand above his head, his father sipped at his coffee. "Ten footers."

"Awesome."

Sandy nodded in agreement. "Bagels?" He asked, looking hopefully at Seth.

"Right in front of you, dad." Seth answered proudly, pushing the plate towards the older man.

Picking one up and inspecting it with slight disdain, Sandy arched a signature busy eyebrow. "Low fat cream cheese?" He asked cynically.

Seth scoffed. "Bite your tongue, father." He picked up a slice for himself, dramatically inhaling the scent of his breakfast and blissfully closing his eyes. "Just good ol' traditional creamy goodness." He sighed, taking a large bite.

"Oh, I love you, son."

"I love you too, dad. But not as much as I love bagels."

Seth ran around the corner when the doorbell rang so fast that his socks slid across the smooth, shiny floor. His eagerness was caused by two main factors: one, Summer was at the other end of that door and he was suddenly desperate to see her, and two, he'd been hoping she'd knock – Ryan was still asleep. If he didn't let her in soon, she might ring it again.

As he lunged for the doorknob, he caught sight of himself in the foyer mirror, and did a double take. He'd forgotten about the hair. Or lack there of.

Rubbing a hand across the top of his head, he tried to conjure up her response with a little help from his creative imagination. Would she be thrilled? Horrified? No…she'd find this hot. It was dangerous. No, bad boy. She'd be all over him. He had nothing to worry about.

Lifting up the collar of his polo shirt, Seth shrugged his shoulders and fluidly opened the door, leaning against the frame in an overly casual stance, quirking up an eyebrow in what he hoped was an aloof and sexy expression. "Hey, Summer." He drawled, and added a wink for good measure.

The petite brunette stood slack-jawed and wide-eyed, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. Then without warning her mouth crinkled and she threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh my God, Cohen!" She gasped between breath-stealing giggles, a hand covering her mouth as she pointed at his head. "What did you do?" She shrieked, clutching at her midsection as she doubled over and continued laughing.

Okay, now he was embarrassed. Flattening his collar and rubbing a self-conscious hand over the top of his head, Seth lowered his eyes and shifted his feet. "I gave myself a haircut, okay?" He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her giggling form into the house, shutting the door behind her.

Tears of laughter were now streaming down her pink face. "With what, a lawn mower?" She chuckled, reaching up a hand to touch his scalp.

Seth swatted her hand away. "Leave it alone, okay?" He said, crossing his arms and taking a step back. "Only people who appreciate the new hair are allowed to touch it. Those who laugh and or make fun, similarly to what you just did, can only observe from a distance." He finished, and turned his body away from her playfully.

Getting her laughter under control, Summer struggled to make a serious face. "Aww, did I hurt your feelings Cohen?" She gushed, stepping closer to her boyfriend and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Come on, tough guy. I'm sorry. It was just a shock to the system. I'm over it now." She promised.

"Nope. No, me and my semi-hairless head are still offended." Seth insisted, tilting his chin to the ceiling. "There will be no touching today."

Summer opened her mouth in slight shock. "Really? No touching whatsoever?"

"That's right. You heard me." Seth replied.

With a dramatic pout, Summer stood on her tip toes in front of his face and gave a devilish grin. "Not even…" she planted a light kiss to his lips. "Here?" She asked playfully. Lightly, she touched her mouth to his again, waiting until he reciprocated.

Seth broke the kiss breathlessly and wrapped his arms around her. "Okay, maybe there." He relented with a roll of his eyes, and guided her towards the living room with her hand in his. He smiled a shark's smile as they toppled over the arm of the couch onto the soft cushions as she giggled and kissed him again. She could laugh all she wanted, but he knew his hair was _definitely _working for him today.

"Where are you parents, Cohen?" She asked slightly breathlessly, her nimble fingers working on the buttons of his shirt.

Seth reached for the hem of her sweater. "Dad's at work, mom's grocery shopping." He pressed his lips to hers again. "For lots and lots of food."

The floor creaked almost inaudibly as Seth and Summer broke apart like two negative magnets. "Ask where Ryan is. Always ask where Ryan is." His foster muttered groaned as he walked through the room to the kitchen, barefoot and in sweats, one hand shielding the side of face like blinders.

As Seth worked on fixing the buttons of his shirt, he tossed an apologetic grin at Summer. "Sorry about that." He said, fixing the cushions of the couch. "I'll take a rain check, though. Preferably in a boudoir." He said slyly, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

It was then that he realized that she wasn't moving, just staring at him with tears in her eyes. Alarmed, he touched her shoulder. "What's wrong? Is it something I said? Did?" Seth demanded worriedly.

After a moment Summer seemingly broke from her daydream and shook her head. She locked on to Seth's eyes and smiled at him sadly. "His hair." She said softly, nodding towards the direction of the kitchen where Ryan had disappeared.

Seth pressed his lips together, trying to follow. "Yes…" he said slowly.

Summer sniffed. "And your hair…" She said tearfully, pointing to his head.

"Again, yes." Seth agreed, nodding. "Not understanding why you're so upset, though."

She swallowed and smiled at him again, reaching out to touch the side of his head with wide, watery brown eyes. This time Seth didn't pull away. "You did this for him." She stated, a look of admiration in her eyes.

Seth just nodded.

Summer sighed. "Cohen, that is the sweetest, most non-selfish thing I've ever heard of in my life." She said, and stroked her hand down to his chin, guiding his head forward and kissing him softly. Summer looked him in the eyes. "I'm sorry I laughed at you. I'm like, uber-bitch." She averted her eyes.

"Hey, you're not a bitch, okay?" Seth insisted, trying to get her to smile again. "If anything, my dad's the bitch. He had me comparing myself to Sinead O'Connor. No good can come of that." He chuckled, rewarded with a slight grin.

Summer tossed her thick, dark hair. "Cohen, just when I think you're starting to make sense, you go and say something like that." She straightened her skirt and stood up from the couch, offering a hand to Seth and pulling him up with her.

Draping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, Seth hugged her to his chest as they made the trek to the kitchen. "I can't help it my love, it's in my nature." He sighed dramatically. "Besides, it's more of an inside joke."

* * *

In the kitchen, Ryan was slumped at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of something directly under his head. Seth walked closer to investigate, and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Ryan, man, you know mom will have your hide if she finds you drinking coffee." He chastised, taking the offending mug and dumping it in the sink.

Ryan's eyes were closed as he sighed, his head propped up heavily on his fist. "I know. But it was worth a try." He moaned.

"Hey, Chino." Summer said, still somewhat uncomfortable from the interruption before. "I'm digging the hair." She said sweetly, smiling towards his head.

One eye popped open and Ryan regarded her tiredly. "Thanks. Sorry…about before." He mumbled, just as awkward. Then he blushed, averted his eyes, and jerked a thumb towards her chest. "And might I add that your…bra…is still showing."

Seth laughed as Summer looked down at herself and hurriedly adjusted her shirt. She clubbed him in the solar-plexus with her fist. "Ass!" She shouted, shoving him hard. "You could have told me, you know!" She crossed her arms in front of herself and shot him a death glare.

Rubbing his midsection, Seth still laughed. "True." He relented, but then shook his head. "But it's much funnier this way."

Summer rolled her eyes and sat beside Ryan at the counter. "Chino, let's ignore ignoramus boy." She said, patting Seth's foster brother on the back affectionately, all the while shooting daggers in her boyfriend's direction. "How are you feeling on this fine morning?" She asked conversationally.

Ryan coughed. "Been better." He sighed, and leaned forward to pillow his head on his arms, resting on the surface of the counter.

"Here man." Seth appeared at the other end of the counter with a cup containing tea and two small pills. "Drink up. And sorry for have to confiscate the coffee. But you don't want mom to start another lecture about caffeine and pain medication." He reminded gently, and achieved a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Cohen, you make it very hard to ignore you." Summer huffed. "Is that in your nature, too?" she asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, sure." Seth answered absently. He was currently distracted by the way Ryan was painstakingly lifting his head up to swallow his medicine and sip at the hot contents of the mug. By the way his brother's hands were so furiously shaking, Seth was glad he had taken the liberty to only fill it to the half-way mark. Today was quite obviously not one of Ryan's better mornings. When a round of coughing started, Seth's brows furrowed tighter in concern. He thought his foster brother's slight cold had cleared up days ago. He made a mental note to tell his mother about this later.

Summer's small, sharp fist pelted him in the shoulder. "Ow! Summer, what?" He demanded, rubbing his arm and glaring at his girlfriend in surprise.

"Cohen, I'm talking, here!" She growled, arching her brows accusingly. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Summer challenged quietly.

Still rubbing his aching limb, Seth looked at Ryan for help, but his foster brother just shrugged. "I have to." He began uneasily. "Refresh me." he pleaded.

With a dramatic sigh, a cock of her head, and a roll of her eyes, Summer crossed her arms and glared at him. "What time are you picking me up tomorrow, Cohen?" She asked as if she had been asking the same question for hours on end.

Confused, Seth wracked his brain. "For what?"

"Hello! For your grandfather's birthday party, genius." She said condescendingly.

Seth looked at her quizzically. "Tomorrow is Grandpa's birthday?" He asked himself, wracking his brain. He knew he'd been out of the loop where his grandfather was concerned for some time now. After all, Caleb Nichol was not on the Cohen family's favorite list of people at the moment. But Seth didn't know how he could have forgotten the date of perhaps one of the biggest annual parties in Newport Beach.

Summer clucked her tongue and smiled haughtily. "I guess I know more about your family affairs than even you do, Cohen." She said snidely. When Seth and Ryan gave her a collective glare of disbelief, she threw up her hands in defeat. "Okay, so Julie Cooper is throwing the party at her house, and Marissa invited me. But I still knew about it before you two morons."

"Point taken, Summer." Seth shrugged. "Point taken."

"Anyway, pick me up at seven tomorrow night, okay?" Summer went on, tucking her hair behind her ears and sneaking a sip from Ryan's mug. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "God, Chino. And that's supposed to make you feel _better_?" She wiped the back of her mouth with her hand.

Ryan sighed tiredly but managed an amused smile. "No, not really." He mumbled.

Seth leaned against the counter top and avoided Summer's eyes. "Anyway Summer, I'm not too sure how to put this, but um…" He licked his lips. "I'm not going." He clapped his hands together and started milling about the kitchen. Maybe he'd prepare an early lunch.

Summer shook her head as if confused. "I'm sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly." She said, and Seth could feel her stare even as he turned his back to rummage through the cabinets. "It sounded like you just said you're not going to your own grandfather's birthday party, one of the biggest events in Newport every year."

Seth nodded without turning around. "Right. That's what I said."

Now it was Ryan's turn to sound confused. "What? Why not?" he asked, bewildered.

"I've got plenty of reasons why not, good buddy." Seth replied as he clapped his hands together. His search for nothing came up fruitless and he had to close the cupboards and face the two teens staring at him in puzzlement. "For instance, the Valley will be on at eight. I can't miss that. Summer, how are you tearing yourself away?" He asked in mock horror.

"I'm taping it, Cohen." She said slowly. "It's called a VCR, dumbass. I hope you have a better reason than that."

Seth shrugged. "I don't need a better reason." He said simply. "I'm just not going."

The click of high heels made themselves known as they got nearer and nearer to the kitchen. His mother walked in with both arms loaded with over flowing brown bags of groceries. "Not going to what?" she asked, interested. "Hi Summer." She said to the girl as she set down the two heavy bags. She smiled at Ryan and walked over to kiss his cheek. "Morning, sweetie." She rubbed a hand over the top of his very short hair, and looked at Seth. "Not going to what?" she repeated.

"Your dad's birthday party." Ryan jumped in before Seth got a chance to open his mouth.

"Oh." Kirsten said, and her face fell slightly.

Seth saw Ryan glance at her quizzically as she started unpacking the groceries from the brown paper bags. "Oh, what?" he asked, his expression growing more and more tense by the second. "We're going, right?" he asked suddenly.

Kirsten smiled down at him in a way that even Seth had to say was patronizing. "I don't think so, honey. Not this year." Her voice was soft and controlled. Then she turned around and looked at her son. "Seth, would you please go and get the rest of the bags from the back of my car?" She requested, and tried to make herself busy again.

But Seth hung back in the doorway and watched the exchange worriedly. Ryan was watching Kirsten's every more, silently and with a searching look in his eye. Then after a moment something flickered across his face and it fell. "You got fired, didn't you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kirsten had stopped, her back to the room and carton of baking soda in one hand. Seth watched as she slowly turned around and looked Ryan in the eye. "I didn't get fired." She said slowly. "I quit."

Summer sucked in a breath. "I'm going to go powder my nose." She said lamely, not that anyone was really listening to her at that point anyway. She locked eyes with Seth briefly before she left the room.

"It was because of me, wasn't it?" Ryan asked out of nowhere, his voice now dark and ashamed, his head bowed and eyes trained on the table.

Seth bit the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking out loud, in his head a voice chanted, _don't go for honesty on this one, mom. If you know Ryan at all, do not, under any circumstances, go for honesty._

His mother sighed and walked closer to where her foster son sat. She pressed her lips into a fine line and looked down at the top of his head. "It was because of a lot of reasons, Ryan." She said softly, reaching for to cover one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. "But one of those reasons was because he was making me choose between work and my family. And my family always comes first." She stated.

Ryan looked up at her with heartbroken eyes, and Seth knew that it hadn't worked. "But he's your family." He said softly.

Kirsten swallowed. "And you're my son."

"I'm just your foster son." Ryan said immediately, shaking his head. "You can't choose me over your dad, Kirsten. I won't let you." He stammered, pulling away from her slightly.

Reaching out, Kirsten captured his hand again between both of her own. "Ryan, it's not a matter of letting me. It's done, sweetie. I did what I had to do, for you, me, for this family. I won't let him control my life." She told him, speaking soothingly. "You, and Seth, and Sandy are my life. Right now you need me. And I have to do what's best for you." She blinked back tears, stroked his palm with her fingers, and brushed a gentle hand down the back of his head.

Seth watched Ryan take a deep, calculated breath. He covered his mouth and coughed before he trusted his voice to speak. "Okay." He said softly, and finally looked Kirsten in the eye. "Then we'll go to your dad's birthday tomorrow." After a moment he released her hand and slowly stood up. With a little leverage from the edge of the counter and the back of the stool, he unsteadily made his way out of the kitchen.

After he was gone, Seth stood silently in his place and watched his mother sigh and wrap her arms around herself, staring into space with a troubled expression.

Seth rubbed his hands together, needing to break the silence. "Well now we need to buy a present, huh?" he said jokingly.

Kirsten looked up and leveling him with a look that was not in the least amused.

"Okay…" Seth mumbled and turned around. "I'll go get those groceries."

* * *

AN: Yay, it's done! It took me a long time to finish. I had the beginning written, like, two weeks ago and it took me forever to write the rest. But it was worth it, because I like it. So, tell me if you do, too. Review! Cheers,

-Vancouverite


	20. Party Preparations

AN: This took a little longer than expected because I experienced a few days of writer's block. It was extremely annoying. But one way or another, I give you chapter twenty. Kind of a milestone, the twenty chapter mark. Thank you so much to my faithful reviewers, I love you one and all. Read, review, and enjoy!

**FADING – Chapter Twenty**

**Wednesday Night**

Taking in the sounds of vegetables sizzling over the hot coals of the barbecue, and the waves crashing against the distant shore, Sandy turned over a skewer with the metal tongs he held in his hand and breathed in the aroma of their soon-to-be supper.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been out here preparing a meal. With the craziness that overcome their house over the last month, take-out had become the norm of family dinners. Not that ordering in wasn't the main form of nutrition in the Cohen household, but Sandy actually enjoyed the rare occasions when he got to cook. It was oddly soothing.

Sandy heard his wife coming before he actually saw her. "Hey, sweetie." She greeted hurriedly as she flew by.

"Whoa, whoa." He called, closing the barbecue and turning around to face her. Kirsten was walking quickly across the patio with a nylon encased hanger in her hand. "Are you coming or going?" He asked.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, Kirsten gave him a look of confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked, halting her stride completely and walking towards him.

"Well, I just got home an hour ago and I feel like you've been on the move ever since." He complained, holding his hands out to her until she smiled and came closer. She set down her garment on the counter and wrapped her arms around his back. "What's got you running around so much? The only times I've seen you this frazzled are when it involves your…" Sandy trailed off as he caught the guilty look in her blue eyes. "Oh, honey. What did he do now? I thought we were over this."

Kirsten sighed. "So did I." She relented, and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "But tomorrow night is his birthday party." She sounded more tired than she did after a day of work.

Sandy waited. "And…?" He looked down at her expectantly.

Releasing him, Kirsten moved to lean beside him beside the barbecue, her arms crossed wearily across her chest. "And…Ryan is insisting we go." She sighed again and stared down at her hands, absently twisting her wedding band on her ring finger.

"He found out you quit, didn't he?" Sandy realized, gazing at his wife sympathetically. No wonder she looked so down. One way or another, it hadn't been a good day for his wife. When she just nodded, he wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders. "Honey, it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. We shouldn't have pretended any differently in the first place." His eyebrows furrowed together. "But why on earth would Ryan want to go to your father's birthday party? Ryan's not exactly a fan of parties…or Caleb Nichol, for that matter. That's like if I wanted to go shopping with Julie Cooper." He shuddered at the thought.

Kirsten shook her head. "It's a long story. But Ryan basically accused me of choosing him over my dad. And it made him really upset." She bit her lip and her eyes got distant. The she gave herself a visible shake and wrapped her arms around his waist, her eyes flashing with amusement. "But you'd better get over your fear of Julie by tomorrow night, because she's the one hosting."

Raising his eyes skyward, Sandy groaned. "I should have guessed." He bemoaned. "And I suppose I have to wear a jacket and tie?" he whined, fixing her with puppy-dog eyes.

"That would be preferable." She chuckled, nodding towards the garment bag she had abandoned. "I had to get my new dress tailored. God forbid I wear something Julie has seen more than once." She said sarcastically.

Quirking an eyebrow, Sandy grinned. "Color?"

Kirsten's eyes sparkled. "Red."

"Oh, honey." Sandy drawled, pulling her closer. "Maybe this party thing isn't such a bad idea after all." He captured her lips in a kiss as she threw her arms around his neck and sighed her contentment.

A door closed and they heard a sound of disgust. "Ugh! Mom, dad, get a room!" Seth pleaded, throwing a hand across his eyes as Sandy reluctantly loosened his hold on his wife. Seth peeked between his fingers and then shook his head. "On second thought, don't. I _so _don't need that visual."

Sandy threw an oven mitt at the teenager's head. "What do you want, son?" he asked impatiently.

"Well, father, now that you ask." Seth returned playfully, stepping closer and nodding towards the barbecue at his parents' backs. "Ryan and I are getting hungry…well, no, actually _I'm _getting hungry, and would like to know when we can expect dinner to be served?" He asked hopefully.

Sandy _thought_ he'd smelled something burning. "Shit!" he exclaimed, and whirled around to throw open the steel cover and stare down at the blackened food in dismay. He gave his wife a withering look. "Aw, Kirsten. You distracted me." He sighed.

Seth's eyes widened accusingly. "Mom! I thought I told you. Stay at least ten feet away from any food preparation areas at all times!" he exclaimed, shaking his head as if disgusted.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Seth." Kirsten sneered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Is that everything or do you have more insults you need to share?" She mocked, tilting her head to one side.

With a proud grin, Seth blinked slowly and shook his head. "Nope. That will be all for now." He turned on his heel and took several steps towards the kitchen doors before he stopped and started walking back across the patio. He faced both parents and clapped his hands together uncomfortably. "Actually, there was something I wanted to…ask you about." He said slowly.

Sandy looked up from plucking the charred skewers from the griddle. "Yes?"

Seth glanced towards the main house as he spoke. "Well, since Ryan woke up this morning he's been doing pretty well, but he's kinda been coughing a lot…I don't know if you noticed or anything." He said uneasily, glancing between his two parents. "And its sort of seems like he's doing it a bit more now. I don't know, I just thought I should tell you." He pressed his lips together and turned his shoulders slightly towards the doors.

Kirsten smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing, sweetie." She said, keeping her tone calm and warm. "I did notice. But I don't think it's anything to worry about. Thanks for telling us, though."

With a nod, Seth looked relieved. "No problem." He tossed over his shoulder as he started across the pavement. He flung open the doors and strolled inside. "Hey, Ryan! Mom screwed up dinner. Get the take-out menus…I'm thinkin' Thai."

Sandy waited until the doors to the kitchen shut before he looked at his wife. He saw the worry clearly in her eyes as she took in a deep breath and met his gaze. "I'll call Dr. Collins after supper." She said, then forced a smile and stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek.

He watched her collect her things and walk back towards the house with growing feeling of unease rising in his stomach. Their last meeting with Dr. Collins had been tense. When he'd looked at their foster son he hadn't appeared happy. After treatment he'd taken another sample of Ryan's blood to be tested and they were still waiting on the results. Though the doctor hadn't said much, he had cryptically told them to watch Ryan carefully over the next couple weeks. The latest hit of chemo was evidently hitting the boy hard, and it was painfully obvious that he was concerned.

When Sandy took the plate containing the burnt remains of their dinner into the kitchen, he quickly located the trash under the sink and dumped it all into the garbage. He could hear Seth's cheerful voice talking to Ryan in the living room and started to follow.

Red dresses or not, a birthday party for Caleb was the farthest thing from his mind.

* * *

Kirsten finished pouring herself a glass of chardonnay and took a small, appreciative sip. Bracing both hands on the counter, she quickly made a mental checklist concerning the occupants of the house. Seth was in his room jabbering mindlessly to Summer on his phone, where he'd been for the past hour or so. Ryan was in bed early, had taken all his medicine, and managed to eat some of his dinner. Sandy…

"Honey, come in here!" The excited voice of her husband called to her from the living room. "Judge Judy is on, and she's making some poor bastard cry!"

Smirking, Kirsten picked up her wine and carried it with her as she followed his voice through to the couch. When he saw her he grinned broadly and pulled her down to his lap with two strong arms. "Hey." He said, kissing her warmly. "Everything okay?" He asked, nuzzling her neck.

Shrugging, Kirsten tilted her head. "With?" She asked.

"You." Sandy said simply, gazing at her with dark, thoughtful eyes. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek with tender fingers. "You've been preoccupied all evening. Something still bothering you? Ryan? Your dad?"

Kirsten sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back against his solid chest. "Ryan should be fine. At least that's what Dr. Collins said." She murmured, her eyes flicking towards the screen of the television. "He said that when the cancer cells are collected at the spinal chord, like in Ryan's case, they can sometimes move to the throat and irritate the esophagus. Cause coughing." She finished nodding, returning her gaze to her husband's dark, troubled eyes. Kirsten forced a tight-lipped smile. "He said it's nothing serious, just annoying. Cough medicine works. And I'm bringing him in the day after tomorrow for a check up. Just to be sure."

Sandy sighed a little and tightened his hold around her waist, pulling her closer. "Well, regardless," he mumbled, kissing her forehead. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

With a nod, Kirsten's eyes lost focus and she found herself staring at the wall. "No." She replied, taking a sip from her wine glass. "It doesn't." she agreed.

They lapsed into silence for minutes on end. Staring down into the pale yellow liquid of her chardonnay, Kirsten's attention got caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts until a rough hand brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Honey?" Sandy said softly, and she looked up.

He just stared at her, looking so deeply into her eyes that she was sure he could see through to the other side of the room. Her vision blurring with tears that came out of nowhere, Kirsten opened her mouth to speak.

"Mom? Dad?" Stomping, teenager-like footsteps carried down the stairs and stopped at the landing.

Kirsten swiped hurriedly at her eyes and turned to look over the back of the couch. Seth stood at the entry way to the room looking at them curiously. "Sorry to…interrupt or anything." He mumbled suddenly, her son's eyes catching hers for a moment and flashing with confusion and concern.

"That's fine, Seth." Sandy replied, waving a hand. "What's up?"

Seth's eyes flicked between his two parents for a moment more before he relaxed and jerked his head towards the upper floor. "Ryan is like, horking up a lung in the guestroom." He said with a grimace. "Anything I can give him?" Her son asked with a shrug.

Just as she was opening her mouth, Sandy rested a hand on her thigh and got to his feet. "I'll go." He told her softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. As he walked around the coffee table to the back of the couch, he offered a smile. "Robitussin okay?"

Kirsten nodded and returned his smile with an unsteady one of her own, and watched until her husband and son disappeared out of the room. With a sigh, she brought her wine glass to her lips and drained the last remnants from the bottom. The flickering of the TV caught her attention and she leaned across the couch for the remote control, turning it off.

When she was met with silence, she wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her chin to her chest, willing herself not to cry. She didn't have any reason to cry. As Dr. Collins had said, Ryan would be fine.

The sound of coughing carried down from the top floor. Kirsten flinched as the first set of tears squeezed out from behind her tightly closed eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

One day, things would go back to normal. But until then, she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait.

* * *

The next nightSeth was fumbling with his cufflinks when someone knocked on his bedroom door. With an exasperated sigh, Seth rolled his eyes and struggled to get the round piece of metal in place at his sleeve. "Dad, I told you! I'll be out in a minute." He shouted at the door. "Mom's the one you've got to worry about, anyway. We'll be stuck in this house until kingdom come while she does who knows what in the bathroom."

The door creaked open. "God, Cohen. Rude much?"

Looking up to see Summer step into the room as gracefully as one can in three inch heels, a grin stretched across his face as he crossed the distance to kiss her hello. "Hey." He smiled at her warmly. "I thought we were picking you up." He stepped back briefly to admire the low-cut black dress she was wearing, and grinned wider. "Not that I'm complaining." He drawled, and pulled her by the wrist towards his bed.

With a squeal, Summer fell beside him on the mattress. "Cohen!" she exclaimed, smacking his arm with her clutch and sitting up immediately, hesitantly patting her hair with her hand. "You have no idea how long it takes my hairdresser to get me looking like this." She pointed to her curly up-do.

"Don't know, don't care, my darling." Seth hauled himself up beside her and silenced her second rant with a kiss. "As long as this is the outcome, that's all I desire." After several long moments, he felt Summer give in with a small sigh, her arms wrapping around his neck as his lips descended upon the sensitive spot on her collar bone.

"Just don't wrinkle the dress, Cohen." She whispered, and leaned back against his pillows as Seth began lowering one of the thin, black straps down her shoulder.

Seth heard Ryan's slightly hoarse voice starting down the hall, slowly getting closer. "Hey Seth, can I borrow a tie?" He started asking as Seth pulled away from his girlfriend as quickly as he could, wiping lipstick from his mouth and straightening his collar as Summer yanked up the straps of her dress and lowered her skirt. "Your mom forgot one when she brought my suit up and if I go down to the pool house your parents will cross-examine me and…" the door pushed open and Ryan's pale face turned an amusing shade of red. "…Oh. Sorry." He mumbled.

Hopping to his feet, Seth fiddled with his own tie and gestured to his now forgotten unbuttoned sleeves. "Hey, man." He said, patting Ryan on the back. "Summer was just, uh…helping me put on my cufflinks." He quickly looked to Summer and gave her a silencing, wide-eyed look.

"Right." Ryan mumbled with a small grin. "If that's what they're calling it these days." He murmured under his breath, scratching his head and staring at his black dress shoes with rapt interest.

Summer rolled her eyes and pushed herself up into a standing position, one hand on her hip. She licked her lips and glared at Seth. "I'll wait downstairs." She informed them, stomping on Seth's toes as she made her way to the door. "If you two dipwads aren't ready to go in five minutes, I'm coming after you." She warned with one fist cocked. Then she spun around and disappeared from the room.

Ryan rubbed his chin and glanced at Seth apologetically. "Second time in two days, man." He mumbled, his expression guilty and slightly embarrassed. "I get the feeling I've been salting your game lately."

Seth made a face. "What? No way, dude." He scoffed, and threw open his closet doors and began his search for a tie that wouldn't clash with Ryan's black jacket and blue shirt combo. "That was just twice. You don't see what goes on behind the scenes, my friend. Our private sessions…now those last for hours on end. It's a miracle I don't walk like John Wayne." He said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

His foster brother looked mildly disgusted.

"Overshare?" Seth asked awkwardly.

"Definitely."

"Sorry about that." Seth grinned and held out a tie for Ryan to take. "Anyhow, I hope this won't geek up your outfit. Wouldn't want to ruin the Atwood image. If it does I _could _see what we have in the back, perhaps something a little darker, a little edgier." He said in his best _Queer Eye for the Straight Guy_ impersonation.

Ryan glared at him and then smiled, focusing on the mirror as he lifted his collar and started to loop the tie around his neck. "This one will be fine, Seth." He said, and then sighed as he began to make the knot. "It's not like I actually care all that much how I look at Caleb Nichol's birthday party. The man despises me."

Rubbing a hand over his short hair, Seth studied the side of Ryan's face as the beginning of a blessedly short coughing fit began. "Then…if you don't mind my asking…" He began slowly and waited until Ryan quieted before he continued, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Why are we even going, dude? I mean, no one in this house right now feels the burning desire to party it up as the meanest fossil in Newport gets another year older, least of all you. And yet you're the one pushing us all out the door on this one. I don't get it."

Tearing his eyes away from the process of knotting his tie, Ryan locked eyes with Seth and suddenly looked very serious. "Kirsten can't just alienate her dad because I'm sick, Seth." He said, like it was blatantly obvious.

"Yeah, I hear that." Seth murmured sarcastically, scratching his chin and matching his foster brother look for look, glare for glare. "Except it's _her_ dad and it's up to _her_ to decide when he's being an ass, and therefore show him she's pissed off, like by missing said birthday party." He pointed out, frustrated.

"We both know Caleb Nichol isn't going to apologize for anything that involves me, Seth." Ryan growled, ripping apart an attempted knot he had botched and starting fresh, practically scowling at his own reflection in the mirror. "And your mom's not just missing his birthday. She quit her job because of me. And so maybe this is just one party, but soon it will be more and then it will be something else, she'll see him less and less…" his hands stopped mid-movement and the look in his eye got very distant. "She can be as mad at him as she wants, but he's still her dad. One day she'll regret not having him in her life. And I couldn't take it if she looked back and remembered that it was all because of me." he finished, glancing at Seth briefly before resuming the process of passing thick material over thin in calculated, practiced motions.

Seth wasn't quite sure what to say. "Huh." He settled for instead, watching as Ryan's third attempt failed and his movements got more rough and agitated. Seth's eyebrows furrowed in concern as he watched his foster brother's hands shake furiously as his face screwed up with rage and he jerked the tie tightly around his neck. "You know Ry, the tie isn't trying to strangle you, man." He noted quietly.

"Could have fooled me." Ryan muttered, and then undid another completely askew knot with angry, fumbling fingers. "I don't even want to wear this stupid thing!" He growled suddenly, and tore it from his neck, heaving it across the room and was left standing in the middle of the floor, panting suddenly and coughing as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Then fuck the tie, Ryan." Seth stepped towards him and placed a calming hand on his friend's shoulder until Ryan's smoldering eyes died down a little. "Go open-collar. It's a good look. It'll piss my grandpa off possibly more than even our hair will."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Our hair?" He asked curiously.

Patting Ryan's back, Seth nodded knowingly. "Oh yes, Ryan. You see, bald people remind my dear old grandfather of carnies." He explained slowly as he guided them both out of the room and out to the hall, turning off the light and closing the door as he went. "And well, you see, Caleb Nichol hates carnies."

* * *

The glowing white lights hanging from trees twinkled cheerfully in the moonlight as Ryan walked down the familiar driveway of the Cooper's property, closing his eyes briefly as the sounds of music and laughter carried out to them from inside and the patio on the other side of the house. He hung back slightly from the Cohens and Summer, taking a deep, preparative breath and coughing as the rush of cool air irritated his throat, stinging his eyes as he waited for the fit to end.

As they stepped up to the front door, candles lining the front steps, Ryan stood silently beside Seth and Summer as Kirsten rang the doorbell. Clearing his throat and willing away the burning sensation in his lungs, Ryan looked up to see Sandy watching him carefully. He gave his foster father a tight smile and hoped they wouldn't worry anymore tonight.

The door swung open and the laughter and music got louder as Julie Cooper looked them all up and down with a critical eye. "Well. Cal said we wouldn't be expecting you, Kiki." She chirped, giving them all a sickeningly sweet smile.

"So good to see you too, Julie." Sandy breezed into the house, much to Julie's obvious disgust, and saved Kirsten from having to reply. "Hope you guys got the good caterers, I'm starved. Now, please point me in the direction of the champagne." He rubbed his hands together and grinned.

"Juju? Who's here?" the unmistakable growl of Caleb Nichol sounded through the foyer and Ryan felt himself holding his breath and glancing nervously at Kirsten.

But Kirsten looked as calm and collected as he'd ever seen her, right up to the moment when Caleb rounded the corner and looked at his daughter and her family in obvious surprise. His jaw was set as he faced her, giving a polite nod and a slight smile. "Kirsten. This is a surprise."

Kirsten's mouth twitched, but she forced a smile of her own. "A good one, I hope." She said, and reached up to kiss his cheek. "Happy birthday, dad." She said genuinely as their eyes met in a silent showdown.

Caleb sort of grinned again before he turned to Sandy and extended a hand. "Sanford."

It looked like it took every ounce of willpower in Sandy's body to shake his father-in-law's hand and not look enraged. "Don't get excited. I'm only here for the free food. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a drink." He said with a sigh, and started to walk into the throngs of people leading into the main room. "You better have a damned good open bar, Cal. That's all I've got to say." He tossed over his shoulder, and disappeared into the crowd.

Ryan watched as Caleb bristled and clenched his jaw. "Your husband is always a laugh riot, Kiki." He muttered, and Kirsten shot him a look.

Just as the tension started to creep up another notch, Seth cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Hey, Grandpa!" He exclaimed cheerfully and held his arms open for a hug. "Happy birthday."

Caleb's eyes widened as he pulled away from his grandson and held him out to arm's length with a hand on either shoulder. "My God. What did you do to yourself?" He demanded, looking at Seth's head in undisguised disgust. "That's positively unsightly, Seth. Kiki, did you allow this?" he asked in disbelief, pointing to Seth's hair.

Her eyes narrowing, Kirsten leveled her father with a glare. "Dad…" She started in a warning tone.

Ryan chose that moment to step forward and put himself directly in Caleb's line of sight. The man's eyes fell on him and turned colder as he looked at him critically, a mocking smile creeping onto his face. "Of course." He said lowly. "I should have known."

Kirsten took a step closer to her father and her eyes flashed with fury, her tone darker. "Dad."

"Ryan." Caleb said suddenly, and held out his hand, his icy blue eyes still glued to Ryan's in a stony, emotionless stare. "Glad you could make it. How have you been feeling?"

The edge of sarcasm in his voice told Ryan not to take him seriously. But that didn't stop him from staring back and letting Caleb's hand hang in midair for a good thirty seconds before he finally shook it. "Fine, thanks." He replied evenly, and willed the burning sensation of an oncoming cough away, at least for another moment or so.

Seth clapped his hands together and broke the agonizing silence. "Okay, then. Greetings are done now." He said, and wrapped one arm around Summer and the other around Ryan. "We're going to go find us some mushroom leek crescents. Maybe if we're lucky, some crab and brie phyllo. We'll catch you guys later." With that he guided them all out into the party with an enigmatic grin.

Ryan heard Summer let out a sigh. "Way to save the day, Cohen." She told her boyfriend with a smile. "For a moment there I thought Chino and your grandpa were going to turn one another to stone." She muttered, shooting Ryan a look of half concern, half admiration.

Looking back at her, Ryan grinned slightly but pulled away from Seth and covered his mouth with his hand when a coughing attack hit him out of nowhere, almost doubling him over as his lungs begged for breath and demanded to expel it at the same time.

When it was finally over he became aware of tears in his eyes, and Seth's hand gently patting his back. "You alright?" He asked gently over the din, and Ryan saw his foster brother's worried expression.

Not trusting his voice, Ryan just nodded.

"Oh, thank God." A familiar voice sighed with relief, and Marissa pushed through the crowds of people and appeared in front of them. "I didn't think you guys were coming!" she exclaimed with a wide, white-toothed smile.

Seth clapped Ryan's shoulder and grinned sardonically. "People change."

Marissa raised a sculpted eyebrow in his direction, and then looked at Ryan and blinked, pushing a strand of immaculately curled hair behind her ear. "Hey." She said softly, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Ryan smiled at her and tried not to focus on the heaviness he was beginning to feel in his chest as they made their way to the bar for a round of non-alcoholic drinks. This coughing thing was really getting old, especially since Dr. Collins had informed them that it was nothing serious. It had gone from just annoying, to positively painful each time he coughed, and his lungs were starting to ache, almost making it harder to breath. Hopefully it was nothing the lozenges in his pocket couldn't fix.

If he had to tell the truth, he'd say he was beginning to feel like shit. He was tired, everything ached, and he just wanted to go home. But he'd dragged the Cohens out to this party for a reason, and he wasn't going to lose sight of it. One way or another, he was going to see this party through, even if it killed him.

* * *

AN: Hope it was well-liked. Obviously I've paved the way for a climactic next chapter…oh yes, I do believe that will be a fun one. Review and cheers!

-Vancouverite


	21. Agony

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I'm a bad author. It won't happen again. Just enjoy, discuss, and review. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as humanly possible, promise.

**FADING – Chapter Twenty-One**

**Thursday Night**

Seth's eyes roved the buffet table hungrily, scanning the plates and platters filled with food that covered every surface. As his stomach rumbled as if on cue, he picked up a ceramic dish and silently thanked Julie Cooper for having impeccable taste in appetizers.

A small hand touched his elbow and trailed its way down his arm to grasp his hand. Seth turned his head to the side and saw Summer beside him, grinning devilishly. "Hey, Cohen." She purred, and sidled up closer beside him.

With the hand not cradling his precious plate, Seth let his right roam across the soft skin of her bare shoulders. "Well hello there, Miss Roberts." He said, seeing the playful look in his girlfriend's eye. A playful Summer was not something to be passed up. "You're in a mighty good mood this evening. I guess parties thrown by decrepit old men really do it for you, huh?"

Raising and lowering one shoulder, Summer ran her finger up the row of buttons on his shirt and smiled a little wider. "Maybe." She replied jokingly, and then gazed at him with impossibly wide, sexy brown eyes. "Or it could just be that suit you're wearing. I've gotta say, Cohen. You look…kinda hot." She whispered the last part.

Seth felt her hand graze his upper thigh area and nearly leapt a foot in the air. He'd _definitely _never met _this _Summer before. He felt his heartbeat jack up the speed. "Uhh, well, it's a good jacket, really slimming. And the tie! The tie just pulls together the whole ensemble, you know how those things work." He rambled, feeling as though every eye in the room was watching his raging hormonal meltdown, even though he knew that none of these Newport socialites had any idea he was on the planet, let alone just about being felt up by Summer Roberts in public.

"Stop talking, Cohen. You're ruining the mood." Summer instructed, shaking her head and causing a single strand of wavy dark hair to fall across her face. "We haven't been alone together in a long time. Here's my preposition, Cohen. So listen carefully." Her breathy voice told him as she leaned in even closer.

Seth gulped as he felt the heat of her body pressed up close against his groin. "Uh, um…Summer, except we're not alone now." He replied quickly, the plate practically forgotten in his hand and teetering precariously.

Summer gave his tie a little jerk, pulling his face down to inches from hers. "I know that, genius. I've got a plan." She whispered with a roll of her eyes. "See over there?" She turned her head and pointed between the crowds where Seth could just barely see Ryan and Marissa sitting against a wall. "Coop found us some chairs. I told her I was just coming over here to get you before the seats are taken again. I'm going to go over there now, and in a minute or two you're going to follow. We'll play it cool, and then just follow my lead."

Seth barely had a chance to get in a word edgewise before Summer spun around in whirlwind of curls and perfume and disappeared from his sight. Seth swallowed and prayed with every fiber of his being that no one would notice the tent in his Armani pants. Inwardly, he made a mental note to repay Ryan for his kindness. Without his foster brother's helpful interruptions over the past few days, he may never have had this opportunity.

Minutes later he was walking towards his friends, a plate piled ridonkulously high with food, even for Seth Cohen. He'd gotten a little carried away with the crudités when thoughts of Summer's plan kept popping into his head. "Hey guys!" He greeted a little too enthusiastically, and plopped down into a seat between Ryan and Summer.

Marissa looked at him quizzically. "Um…hey, Seth." She looked at the food he had on his lap and her eyes widened. "Wow. Went a little overboard on the buffet, I see."

"Nah. Besides, it isn't all for me." Seth scoffed, and handed the plate to Ryan. "Here, buddy. Fill your boots." He clapped a hand on his foster brother's shoulder.

Ryan's voice struck Seth as kind of odd when he spoke. He was definitely a lot hoarser than the last time he'd heard him. "No thanks." He mumbled, and raised a hand to his mouth as he coughed.

Seth couldn't help but wince at the sound. Over the course of the night Ryan's cough had taken on a life of its own. It sounded deeper, and dare he say phlegm-ier. Cringing, Seth looked at his foster brother's face and was a bit taken aback. When had Ryan gotten so pale?

Marissa voiced his own thoughts. "You okay, Ryan?" She asked, her tone tinged with light worry as she rubbed a slender hand across his back.

Ryan seemed to take his time as he regained his breath, but it must have taken longer than it should have. And Seth didn't know for certain, but he could have sworn that he heard the unmistakable sound of a wheeze over the noise of laughter, talking, and music. But Ryan nodded, jerked at his collar a bit, and took a sip of his drink.

Seth felt an elbow dig into his ribs and Summer cleared her throat. "Cohen." She announced in an overly cheerful, polite tone of voice. "Weren't you just telling me that you had to go to the bathroom?"

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Seth stared at his girlfriend crazily. But her eyes were wide and she was nodding her head. "Yes…" Be began uncertainly. "Yes, I was." He grinned in understanding and turned to Ryan and Marissa, slapping his knees with both hands. "I have to go to the bathroom, guys." He declared.

Marissa gave him another puzzled and slightly disgusted look. "Thanks for sharing, Seth." She muttered.

"Cohen, it's a really big house. And you've only been here a few times." Summer pointed out helpfully, and then stood up, grabbing Seth's hand and jerking him to his feet as well. "I better help you find it. You wouldn't want to get lost."

"Nooo." Seth agreed, shaking his head. "I definitely don't want that. No sir…or ma'am." Summer was already walking away, nearly pulling his arm out of his socket in her eagerness. Seth twisted around to grin at an awkward looking Ryan and Marissa. "Catch up with you guys in a bit." He tossed over his shoulder, and followed Summer deeper into the house. She was heading for the stairs – that had to be a good thing.

* * *

Kirsten knew her father loved a good party. And perhaps, to the untrained eye, on this particular night he probably looked pretty happy. But years of training and hands-on experience told Kirsten otherwise. She didn't miss the way he would turn away every once and a while, glare at Seth, Sandy or Ryan from across the room, and take a desperate sip of his scotch. She knew that on some level she had ruined his night, and that's when it came to her that she was not-so-secretly pleased.

"Smiling? At Caleb Nichol's house?" Sandy's low voice chided beside her ear as she felt a warm arm snake around her stomach. "Honey, that's unheard of. Stop it. You're scaring the other guests."

Grinning, Kirsten rested her head on his shoulder and tilted it back until she could see his eyes. "No wonder my dad thinks you're a laugh riot." She smirked, closing her hands around the limb wrapped tightly around her middle.

Sandy chuckled. "He said that? Kirsten, I'm touched." He drawled sarcastically, and turned them slightly away from the pool area where the heaviest parts of the crowds lingered. They stared into the slightly tinted glass and into the house, their own reflections smiling happily back at them. "So, when can we blow this popsicle stand?" He sighed hopefully.

Kirsten's eyebrows knit together slightly, and she found herself focusing more intently on the people moving around inside the house, trying to pick out familiar faces as she swept the hoards of people looking for her sons. "I don't know. I guess that technically it's up to Ryan." She shrugged. "He's the one who wanted to come. He should decide when we leave."

"How's he doing, anyway?" Sandy asked, his own eyes intently scanning the guests inside. "I keep expecting him to do something exciting. Like maybe his head will spin around." He sounded a little too thrilled at the idea.

Kirsten craned her neck and stared at him dubiously. "Sandy, Ryan didn't want to come here for the sole purpose of pissing my father off. And this isn't the Exorcist." she snorted.

There was a pause, and Sandy looked disappointed. "I know that." He mumbled, and shrugged. "I guess I kinda got my hopes up. What, with Ryan's history of making Newport parties…so much more entertaining." He gave a blissful sigh at the memory, and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

Not a moment after the words were spoken, a doubled over figure stumbled out onto the patio a mere ten feet away, panting and gasping as grating coughs tore from their throat. Kirsten felt a cold like she'd never felt before run through her as Sandy's arms slackened around her waist and they were left to stand staring as the scene played out before them.

Even though she knew it was Ryan the second he burst out the open doors, it didn't register in Kirsten's mind until Marissa came rushing out after him, a look of panic on her face as she hunched beside him, her hands hovering nervously over his back. "Ryan?"

She didn't remember Sandy breaking his hold on her, practically pushing her away as he ran towards their foster son. Kirsten certainly didn't remember propelling herself forward, but somehow she found herself beside him, her hands on his shoulders as she struggled to get him upright. She needed to see his face.

"Ryan?" Sandy's voice broke through her delirium. When Ryan finally lifted his head, Kirsten knew something was very, very wrong. He was still coughing sporadically, but every time he gasped for breath his struggle for air came out as a painful, silence-shattering wheeze that made Kirsten's heart hammer in her chest.

How had they not noticed this before?

People were staring now. Sandy was crouched beside Ryan at this point because Ryan was getting closer and closer to the ground. "Ryan, listen to me, kid. Take deep breaths." He instructed, the panic Kirsten saw on his face betrayed his calm voice. He looked up at Marissa. "What happened?"

Tears started to overflow from Marissa's wide eyes. "I don't know." She stammered. "We were inside and then he just started coughing and he said he needed some air…"

Suddenly Ryan gasped like a man drowning. Kirsten saw his eyes roll back into his head and felt her heart leap into her throat as she and her husband latched onto either of his arms as he fell to his knees before their eyes.

Up until that point, words had eluded her. But as she and Sandy guided Ryan's limp body down to lie on the polished floors, they came back in a rush. "Ryan…oh my God." Kirsten gasped, her shaking hand coming down to rest on his cheek. His skin was hot underneath the tips of her fingers, his pallor as white as she'd even seen him. She felt herself shuddering in fear as she moved on autopilot, pawing across the ground until she was able to place Ryan's head carefully in her lap. Gulping back fear, she lifted her eyes from his face. "Sandy…"

Sandy was down on his knees beside her, one hand gripping Ryan's while his other was tearing open the buttons of the teenager's collar. Ryan seemed oblivious to them, concentrating more intently on drawing in each breath. He wasn't coughing as much now, but his skin had grown even paler, if that were possible, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. "Ryan, open your eyes, kid." Sandy begged, staring down at the drawn, pinched face.

After a moment, Kirsten watched as Ryan made an obvious effort to pry his eyes open, staring up at Sandy looking in pain, and panicked. She watched him lock onto her husband, hold onto that contact with all the strength he had, and manage to force out a few struggling, breathless words. Kirsten only caught one of them. "Sandy…"

Her husband's head whipped to the side at lightening speed. "Somebody call 911!" He demanded, and for the first time since Ryan appeared, Sandy sounded scared. But once he was looking back down at their foster son, tightening his hold on his hand, his expression was calm. "Help is in the way, kid. Just concentrate on breathing."

For a moment Kirsten wondered who exactly Sandy had been shouting orders to, until she took the time to lift her head and saw the tightly knit crowd that had gathered around them. She didn't recognize faces, or at least they didn't register. She was mutely aware that somewhere along the way, something had gone wrong in her brain. Thoughts weren't being fully processed, instructions to bodily functions not getting received. She had to remind herself to breathe.

Ryan's head moved in her lap and she focused her eyes on his face again. "Sandy…" He gasped again. He coughed, the sound coming from deep inside his chest, and she felt him convulse against her, his eyes slamming shut again.

"It's ok, Ryan. Just breathe." Sandy pleaded, reaching up a hand to gently brush away a stray tear that had squeezed out from the corner of Ryan's eye. "Everything is going to be okay."

After that, Kirsten lost track of time, and it seemed to stop all together. She watched and vividly would remember every cough, every gasp for breath, and every terrified look, but what went on around her meant nothing. Kirsten didn't even know what she did during the excruciating minutes that passed, or if she did in fact do anything at all.

But the next time she realized that minutes had started passing again was when she heard Sandy talking to someone other than the guests at the party. He was telling this unknown person about Ryan's cancer, about treatments and doctor visits, and Kirsten didn't understand why. She decided that if she looked up and discovered just who this stranger was, it would probably make sense. But at that moment she wouldn't – no, she _couldn't _tear her eyes away from Ryan's face. She couldn't move her hand from Ryan's head. Something deep and primal within her restrained movements, and nothing worked. The only thing she understood were Ryan's eyes, and the fact that they were slowly, slowly falling closed as she watched him grow weaker by the minute.

"Kirsten." A hand was at her elbow, gently pulling, shaking her. "Kirsten, we have to let them work, honey."

That was her name. She was supposed to respond. Without moving her eyes an inch, Kirsten wrenched he arm free. "I'm not leaving him." She snapped, her voice sounding brittle and foreign to her own ears.

"I'm not asking you to leave, sweetheart. I just need you to get up so that the paramedics can work on Ryan." It was Sandy pulling at her, Kirsten decided. His touch felt familiar on her bare skin. "We need to let them help him. Can you do that for me?" He asked her nicely.

It was almost physically painful when Kirsten finally managed to tear her eyes from Ryan's face. But when she swiveled her head the barest amount, Sandy came into view, and he looked worried. "I…I can't leave him." She whispered brokenly, her vision suddenly obscured by a rush of tears.

"We won't, Kirsten. We'll stand right here, Ryan will be able to see us the whole time. We just need to get out of the paramedics' way so they can take care of him." He pleaded with her, and his expression softened as Kirsten felt both his hands return to her elbows, pulling her up gently. "Come on."

Kirsten forced herself to comply, letting his strong arms pull her onto her feet and pray that her legs would hold her weight. Standing a few feet away, all Kirsten could do was stand back and watch as two men dressed in uniforms set down bags and a metal stretcher, crouching down beside her son and speaking in words that she didn't understand.

When Sandy's hands returned and his arms began to wrap around her, Kirsten pushed him away and stepped to the side, keeping her eyes on the form lying on the ground. Between casting scared, nervous glances at the EMT's when they asked him questions, his eyes would flash to her and Sandy, the fear there mirroring her own.

Kirsten shivered and hugged herself, watching as one of the paramedics put an oxygen mask to Ryan's mouth, instructing him to breathe. When she heard those words, she again reminded herself to breathe, as well. Her heart was hammering in her chest a million beats per minute, and her brain struggled to keep up with what was going on around her.

She hadn't prepared for this; she wasn't ready. It wasn't fair. They hadn't come this far, _he _hadn't come this far, to have something happen now. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Everything was supposed to get better, that was what Kirsten had promised herself all along…it was what they had promised _Ryan. _

She didn't think she could watch this happen, and yet she couldn't close her eyes, either.

* * *

Seth caught Summer's reflection in the mirror on the bedside table as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. She grinned at him from where she sat on the foot of the bed, a compact mirror open in her hand as she applied a fresh coat of lipstick. "Summer." He said casually.

"Yes, Cohen?"

"Might I ask a question?" He asked coyly, finishing with the buttons and reaching for his tie which was currently lying in a heap on the carpet. At her noise of approval, he plowed on. "Why have we never done…that…before?" he asked, draping the long strip of fabric around his neck and strolling up to the side of the bed.

Summer rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. "We do 'that' plenty often, Cohen." She remarked, and rubbed at a smear of mascara under her eye.

Seth stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. It was decorated like the rest of the house, fancy and beyond expensive. The bed had been extremely comfy. And while the only other room he'd ever seen the inside of in the Cooper house was Marissa's, he guessed that this was one of the guest rooms. He prayed to Jesus and Moses combined that Summer had more sense than to drag him into Julie Cooper's bedroom…the mere thought made him shudder. "I know that. I mean at a party."

Snapping her compact shut and giving him a look of disbelief and disgust, Summer rose to her feet. "Ew! Cohen, trouser it. If you think that this is going to be a regular occurrence, I'm going to wipe that silly grin off your face with my fists." She threatened dangerously.

"Alright, chill!" Seth soothed, holding up his hands defensively. "Can't blame a guy for trying. I've never seen you as…frisky as you were tonight. Guess it wasn't my charm and good looks after all." He pouted, sticking out his lower lip.

Summer's features softened and she leaned into him a little more. "Well, let's just say that I had an…itch I needed to scratch." She purred, reaching up to button the top of his collar and started to knot the tie around his neck. "And a certain boy from Chino kept innocently interrupting, so the itch got itchier."

Seth grinned widely. "And I scratched that itch, didn't I, Summer?" he threw his head back in delight and gave a shout of triumph. "I'm the official Itch-Scratcher of Summer Roberts." He giggled in delight.

"Cohen, shut up." Summer snapped, jerking the tie tightly until it nearly strangled him and he choked. "You sound beyond creepy."

Seth stopped squirming and allowed her to continue her job. He licked his lips and rolled his neck, feeling the rumbling of an empty stomach demanding to be fed. As he glanced around the room looking for a clock, he thought he saw an ominous flashing of lights from behind the drawn curtains. "What was that?" Seth wondered aloud.

Summer didn't look up from her task. "What?" She asked, uninterested.

The lights flashed again, and Seth reached down to still her hands. "That." He said, and stepped towards the window. Drawing the curtains aside, he peered out the glass and to the ground below, his pulse quickening when he discovered the source of the flashing. "Whoa. We missed something major, Summer."

"What do you mean?" His girlfriend asked curiously, and pushed in front of him to get an unobstructed view. "Oh my God. What happened?" she wondered aloud.

As they stared out at the long expanse of winding driveway that led up to the Cooper house, red and white lights bounced off the walls of the guest room from an ambulance parked out by the street.

Seth took one last look and let the drapes fall shut. "I don't know." He let the half-knotted tie lie forgotten against his chest as he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket.

Summer turned away from the window. "Where are you going?" she asked, and her voice sounded soft, and slightly worried.

Giving her an obvious look, Seth nodded towards the door. "To see what's going on. Come on." He said, pulling off his tie and stuffing it into his front pocket. "I hope Ryan didn't punch Grandpa. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time he decked someone in public, but that would just make an even bigger rift between the families, like a Capulets and Montagues type of rift..."

He'd been walking down the hall, and sure enough, Summer had immediately followed, but he was stopped by her small but insistent hand on his shoulder, and that gentle tone of voice again. "Cohen…"

Seth stopped and looked at her. "What?"

Summer gave a kind of quiet sigh, averted her eyes, and chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. Then she looked up at him again. "Ryan might not have punched somebody." She said, her voice almost a whisper.

Looking at her blankly, Seth turned away, confused, and continued walking as they reached the stairs. He didn't understand what she was getting at, but he didn't like the edge to her voice, either. She sounded sad, and Summer almost never, ever sounded like that. And that alone was enough to worry him a bit. So he picked up his pace and let her hurry to catch up.

Once they got down to the main room and headed in the direction of the patio, the crowds of people got thicker, and it looked almost impossible to make it out the open glass doors. But something inside Seth was nagging, and Summer's hand had snaked into his and she had that small frown on her face, so Seth pushed his way through, feeling like Moses parting the red sea.

When they finally got outside, Seth glanced around. Over the shoulders of the two people standing in front of him he could see a clearing. Looking around a little more he saw a face he recognized that gave him both a momentous feeling of relief and confusion all at once; Caleb was standing slightly off to the side, his expression grim, and something in his eyes that was unreadable. No black eye. No rumpled suite. No bleeding nose.

Seth faltered, and blinked. "What…?" he looked around some more, and didn't know what to feel. If his grandpa was okay, then who was hurt?

Panic began in the pit of his stomach and made his mouth go dry. He glanced around again, more confused than he'd ever felt in his life. It didn't fall into place until he saw Marissa, her face tear stained and complexion white, staring at something on the ground Seth couldn't see. That was when his stomach turned over and his blood ran cold, and it was all he could do not to tear the people's heads off in front of him as he shoved his way through and stumbled into the clearing.

When Seth's eyes fell to Ryan lying prone on the ground, when he heard his horrible, choking cough, too much happened in that split second. Seth's heart leapt into his throat and his lungs expelled all the air he had in his system, leaving him breathless. Summer gave a startled gasp from behind him, said his name and yanked on his arm, like she was trying to keep him from seeing what she had suspected all along. His dad stepped in front of him suddenly and blocked his view of everything going on, staring into his eyes with a look of seriousness and concern – concern for _him –_ that made Seth want to crawl into a hole and wait for this all to be over.

"Seth." His dad said his name clearly, his tone demanding Seth's attention as Seth's eyes struggled to focus on Sandy's face. "Look at me, Seth."

Ignoring him, Seth desperately craned his neck, trying to see what the hell was going on with his brother. His dad kept stepping in his way, blocking his view so that he could barely make out his mom standing somewhere in front of them, her face almost as pale and drawn as Ryan's. She looked like she was crying, like she had been crying for some time now.

Words were exchanged between the two paramedics hovering around Ryan and suddenly the stretcher was being lifted, and he was being rolled away. Seth told his feet to move, and they did.

"Seth!" Sandy's hand gripped his elbow and pulled him back.

Seth ripped out of his father's hold, glaring hard. "What?" He tried to shout, tried to sound angry, but his outburst came out sounding strangled and desperate.

Sandy stepped closer to him until their faces were almost inches apart. "They're taking Ryan to the hospital right now, Seth. You're mother is going to ride there with him in the ambulance, but you and I have to follow them in our car. Do you understand?" he spoke slowly, his voice almost hypnotic and irritatingly patronizing. But even so, Seth found his words difficult to decipher over the beating of his own heart in his ears. "Seth!"

Seth's head snapped back to look at his dad's frustrated, panicked expression and managed to get his head to nod. "Yes." He squeaked over the lump in his throat.

Sandy turned away then, and was talking hurriedly with someone else. Seth was left to stand numbly in the middle of the patio, the hushed crowd now dispersing somewhat. He felt Summer beside him, and was dimly aware of her speaking quickly, explaining something about meeting him at the hospital in a little while. He must have nodded because she got quiet after than and just held his hand until Sandy got back, and told him it was time to go.

As they were walking quickly to the car, Seth's mind started slowly functioning again and a million questions started and wouldn't quit. What the hell had happened while they were upstairs? Was Ryan going to be okay? Was it just that fucking cough or was it something else? Would he have to stay in the stupid hospital overnight or could he come home? Why had his mother looked like someone had died?

The most obvious question came out of his mouth before he even realized he had spoken it out loud. "Dad. What's wrong with Ryan?" He asked as Sandy started up the car and backed hurriedly out of the driveway.

"We don't know, Seth. It could be pneumonia." He said bluntly, his voice rough and flat sounding. "He's having trouble breathing. And he has a fever."

Oh, God. Seth swallowed hard and let his head fall back against the rest, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he tried to take a few deep breaths. He opened them again and watched the road for a few lazy moments before studying his father's still profile. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked nervously, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice and suddenly feeling like his entire world revolved around the answer to this question.

Sandy glanced at him, took a breath as if it were painful, and gripped the steering wheel hard with both hands. "We'll know more once we get to the hospital." He said it like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good enough answer.

It sounded like one of those responses someone gave when they were trying to cover up or postpone bad news. It was at that point that Seth felt as if an iron fist had grabbed hold of his stomach and was squeezing. He tried to concentrate on not throwing up, and instead focused out the window.

* * *

The hallway of the hospital was white, floor to ceiling, and more than a little bit disorientating. As Sandy jogged down corridor after corridor, the only hint of color to be seen was a strip of blue painted down the side of the wall, the line that he and Seth were following that would supposedly lead them to the emergency room, according to a chirpy nurse at the front desk.

They passed a few people being pushed around in wheelchairs, and nearly took down an old lady in a walker. Sandy figured they were getting closer when the amount of sick-looking, injured people increased. One glance over his shoulder told him that Seth was still following, but looked slightly paler and a little green around the gills since they had arrived. Sandy knew his son wasn't a fan of hospitals. In fact, none of them were. Especially since they'd seen so much of this particular one ever since Ryan had gotten sick…

Sandy turned a corner and caught a flash of blonde hair leaning against a stark white wall. His heart beat a little faster as they got closer, but Kirsten didn't even seem to notice them until he and Seth were standing right in front of her. "Kirsten…"

Blue eyes shifted and focused on him. "Hey." Kirsten said, her voice painfully thin as she tried to smile and reached out to rub a hand up the length of Seth's arm. "You didn't miss anything. They just took him into an observation room." She said quickly without missing a beat.

"How is he? Do they know what's wrong with him yet? Can we see him?" Seth blurted out immediately, his eyes wide and anxious.

Kirsten gave another weak smile. "One thing at a time, honey. We just got here." Kirsten gazed longingly down the hall to where Ryan must have been taken and where she had been forbidden to follow. "They paged Dr. Collins once we got here and he's on his way. They're just going to get Ryan settled into a room, make sure he's comfortable. Then we'll be allowed to see him." She explained confidently.

But Sandy knew better. He could read the expression on his wife's face like an open book, and knew she was barely holding back from breaking down completely. She'd scared him at Caleb's when Ryan had first collapsed. Now at least recognition had returned to her eyes…but even though she was standing beside him now, Sandy could plainly see that she was still miles away.

Sandy saw her wrap he arms around herself and shiver slightly. Taking off his coat, Sandy draped it around his wife's bare shoulders. They'd left in such a hurry that she hadn't had time to retrieve her own jacket…if she'd even brought one, that is. Sandy couldn't remember. "Seth, could you get your mom some coffee from the vending machine?" he requested, coming up with a few coins from his pockets.

Seth took the offered change like he was accepting poison. Reluctantly, he pressed his lips together and nodded.

Sandy caught his arm. "I promise that we'll come get you if we need to." He added, and Seth nodded again and disappeared around the corner.

When Sandy turned back to Kirsten she was huddled under his coat, her eyes darting around nervously. Placing a steadying hand in the middle of her back, Sandy moved closer but restrained himself to that small amount of contact. He knew she didn't want to be comforted yet. "Honey…"

"I don't know if he's okay, Sandy." She sniffed softly, her eyes tearing up suddenly as she pressed her fingertips tightly to her lips. "The oxygen was helping, but only a little bit. They said his temperature was 101.3, I heard one of the doctors say something about a ventilator…" She bit back a sob and squeezed her eyes shut.

Sandy wrapped an arm securely around her back and swallowed over a lump that had formed in his throat. "Everything will be fine." He murmured softly, only because it was the one phrase he had allowed himself to repeat through this whole, agonizing night. He didn't think he knew any other words.

Kirsten took a few deep breaths to steady herself and brushed tears hurriedly from her cheeks. "What's wrong with him?" She asked helplessly, and stared up at him as if she expected answers.

Sandy wished with every fiber of his being that he could answer that question, but all he could do was stare down at her wordlessly and pray that he wouldn't lose it just from the fear in her eyes alone.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen?" A familiar voice called from down the hall, and they both looked up to see Dr. Collins hurrying towards them, a clipboard gripped tightly in his hands. When he got closer Sandy could see how frazzled he looked, his glasses askew and his green scrubs irreparably wrinkled, and that did nothing to calm his nerves. "I got here as quickly as I could…"

Kirsten had already latched onto both of his arms like a lifeline. "Where's Ryan? Is he going to be okay? Do you know what's wrong with him yet?" She demanded, her expression frantic.

Sandy touched her arm gently. "Honey, slow down…" he soothed, feeling like he was talking to Seth instead of his usually calm, collected wife.

Dr. Collins was holding Kirsten's hand clasped in both of his, smiling at her gently. "Mrs. Cohen, from what I can tell this early Ryan has developed a nasty lung infection. His temperature is a concern, but not as much as it could be." He explained slowly. "His breathing was worrying the doctors when he first arrived, but I was just in to see him and it's getting better. The oxygen is helping now that he's calmed down."

Swallowing hard, the panic in his wife's eyes hadn't lessened any. "But…but I heard someone mention putting him on a ventilator…his fever was high when we were in the ambulance…"

Smiling at her gently, Dr. Collins squeezed her hand. "A ventilator will not be necessary. That was probably just a precaution. As for his temperature, it's already started to go down now that we have him settled and got a chance to administer antibiotics." He said slowly, his smile never wavering and beginning to make Sandy feel uneasy.

"So…what you're saying is…" Sandy paused and swallowed, kneading the back of his neck with stiff fingers. "Ryan is going to be okay?" he asked hopefully.

With a short nod, the doctor looked at Sandy and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Barring any further complications, yes. I think he'll be fine."

Once the words were out of his mouth, Sandy felt an enormous weight fall from his shoulders and he sighed, momentarily not giving a damn as he wrapped his arms around Kirsten tightly and squeezed her to his chest.

"Frankly I would have been surprised if Ryan hadn't developed an infection, Mr. Cohen. His immune system has taken a huge, huge beating from the chemotherapy." He sighed very softly and looked regretful. "I should have been more vigilant. We could have been able to avoid something…this severe."

Kirsten had straightened her posture and had wiped evidence of tears from her eyes as she faced Dr. Collins hopefully. "Can we see him?" She asked, and Sandy begged that the answer would be yes.

Dr. Collins smiled again. "Sure. A nurse will be out in a minute to take you to his room. I have to go down to the lab to get Ryan's blood work from his last visit." He gave another little grin as he backed away, maintaining eye contact with both Sandy and his wife, a look that was beginning to get damned unnerving. "I'll be back up in fifteen minutes. We can talk this all over with Ryan." He gave a little wave and trotted down the hall.

When they were alone, Sandy saw Kirsten's shoulders sag as she let out a long, shuddering breath. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Kirsten leaned against the wall again and closed her eyes, a line appearing in the middle of her forehead.

Sandy stepped closer. "Kirsten." He said softly, and hesitantly touched her shoulder. "Ryan's going to be okay." He said, hoping it would bring her a little relief, and also just because he didn't think he'd ever tire from saying it,

Her blue eyes slowly opened and were bloodshot, exhausted, and filled with tears. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, Kirsten drew in a deep breath before she spoke. "I thought that was it, Sandy." She whispered.

Confused, Sandy's eyebrows knit together as he looked at her closely. "What?"

Kirsten's eyes never wavered from his face. "I thought we were going to lose him. When he fell like that…at the party. And he couldn't breathe." Her voice cracked and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I thought he was going to die." Her shoulder shuddered as the first sob wracked her thin frame, and she buried her head in Sandy's chest.

Feeling his ribs painfully squeeze his heart, Sandy felt frozen as Kirsten came apart in his arms. His head began to swim and his blood turned to ice in his veins.

They couldn't possibly have come that close. Kirsten had just been scared, the incident had taken them by surprise. They couldn't have almost lost one of their sons tonight.

Sandy felt tears creep up behind his eyes, so he squeezed them shut and held his breath. He wrapped his arms tightly around his wife and rested his chin on the top of her head, and waited for this moment of agony to end.

"Dad?"

Looking up quickly, Sandy saw Seth standing stonily a few feet away, a cup of coffee in his hand, and a terrified expression on his face.

Without breaking his hold on his wife, Sandy looked at Seth and managed a small smile. "Ryan's okay." He sighed, and allowed himself to believe it.

Seth's expression went from anxiety to uncertainty, and finally to one of immense relief as he let out a heavy sigh and walked towards them. Sandy held an arm out to his son and Seth allowed himself to be drawn into his parents' embrace. Sandy didn't know how long the three of them stood there like that in the open hallway, but when they finally broke apart and headed down the hall, it was because it had become painfully obvious that Ryan was missing. And Sandy didn't care if his foster son had never been one for hugs. At that moment he'd never wanted wrap his arms around someone more.

* * *

A/N: Hope it was worth the wait :) 


	22. Oz and Pain

Nope, not dead. I'm not going to make any excuses, either. Second season of the OC sucked, hands down, and not only did I not have the desire to watch it, I certainly didn't have the desire to write about it while Marissa was wreaking havoc on my psyche. I essentially gave up temporarily. And God DAMN IT, I'd written her into my fic. There was no non-stupid way I could get her out of it.

I started this chapter somewhere along the lines of five months ago or so, and never finished it. Today I actually had the desire to add onto it, so I did. When the desire was gone, I stopped. But, I decided I'd better post it so I'm not a comepletely terrible person.

Beachtree (and everyone else), I'm sorry I've gone MIA. There's no excuse, like I say. Someday soon I'll try to start posting and e-mailing again.

**FADING – Chapter Twenty Two**

**Thursday Night**

Finding Ryan's room hadn't been hard. It was the actually going into it that was the difficult part. It was one of the observation rooms off the main hallway that was large, had no windows, and was semi-private. Sandy had been worried at first that Kirsten would fly off the handle at the thought of Ryan having to share a room with other patients, but by some miracle there was only one other bed, and so far it had yet to be occupied.

It wasn't like any of the other rooms Ryan had stayed in since he had gotten sick, and Sandy felt the rushing feeling of discomfort and unease come slamming back into his system as soon as they stepped in past the doorway. It had that overbearing hospital smell of antiseptic and generic laundry detergent. There were counters against one wall with sinks, cupboards, and surfaces littered with various medical equipment in an alarmingly disorganized manner. He felt like he was on a bad episode of _ER_.

If the feel to the room itself wasn't bad enough, Sandy dreaded seeing Ryan that much more. He and Kirsten had wandered timidly in at around ten thirty. They'd left Seth somewhere around the admittance desk after he had explained in an unnecessary amount of words that he was supposed to wait for Summer, who had promised to meet him.

The lights to the room were on, and very, very bright. Usually, whenever Ryan had been in a private room at night, they had always turned off the lights to let him sleep. For some reason keeping them on seemed unbelievably cruel to Sandy.

Even though there was no one in the bed adjacent, the light blue screen had been drawn across the room as a divider so Sandy and Kirsten had to take several steps before they could even make out a figure on the other bed. But once they were at the foot rest, Sandy felt reality hit like a blow to the stomach. Back in the hall he'd allowed himself to float away on a nice, happy cloud of relief because Ryan was going to be alright. But Ryan didn't _look_ alright.

Lying flat on his back, his head turned away from them, Ryan looked anything but alright. Piled under stacks of dingy, off-white knit hospital blankets he looked so hopelessly worn out that Sandy felt like giving up…on what, he didn't know. Ryan's skin was pale, as usual, but in the unforgiving light he looked ghostly, his eyes sunken and his cheekbones prominent. Sandy hoped that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the boy's lips were still tinged slightly blue, although a massive improvement from the alarming color they had been back when he'd been lying on the floors of Julie Cooper's patio. A white tube attached to a noisy, hissing machine trailed up to Ryan's face, wrapped securely behind his ears and under his nose, giving him extra oxygen, Sandy decided.

Kirsten seemed to deflate into a rickety chair at the bedside, her dazed eyes glued to Ryan's face. Sandy stood beside her and tried not to look as nervous as he suddenly felt. Looking at Ryan like this felt so, so wrong. He'd looked weak before; they'd all seen Ryan nearly defeated, looking like a shell of his former self, but right there in that moment, after that terrifying night and in that depressing room, it felt very wrong, and very scary.

"Ryan? Sweetie?" Kirsten's tearful voice spoke, barely above a whisper, as if she were afraid to break the silence that had hung between them for what seemed like forever. She brushed the backs of her fingers across a pale cheek.

Ryan stirred slightly, moaning softly in his sleep and involuntarily leaning in to her touch. Sandy pressed his lips together hard and reached for one of the teenager's cold, slack hands. "Hey, kiddo." He said, because he didn't want Ryan to think that he wasn't there, too.

Another soft sound from the head of the bed and Sandy knew he wouldn't be leaving that dreadful room once the entire night. He'd have to page a nurse to find out who exactly one had to sleep with to get a second chair in this joint. Ryan's previous hospital rooms had not only been nicely decorated, but had comfortable sofas and recliners. Not to mention a TV. Seth was going to go nuts in this place.

When Ryan gave no other indications that he would be waking up any time soon, Sandy turned his attention to his wife and took in her drawn expression and ever-present frown. "He needs his rest." He said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze through the fabric of his jacket.

Kirsten sighed. "I know." She replied softly. In her lap her hands wrung together anxiously "I just…wish I could talk to him. Just for a minute."

"About what?" Sandy asked gently.

Shaking her head, Kirsten stared back at Ryan's peaceful face. "It doesn't matter." She sighed quietly and leaned forward towards the bed, resting her elbows on the mattress and pillowing her head in her hands. "It's late." She murmured after glancing at the clock on the wall.

Sandy nodded. "You can take Seth home. Come back early in the morning." He suggested immediately. Kirsten could act as tough and together as she wanted, but Sandy had seen enough so far tonight to know that she was emotionally and physically worn out. "Ryan's probably just going to sleep through the night, anyway."

Kirsten looked at him in disbelief.

With a sigh, Sandy pulled at his already loosened tie and removed it from around his neck, draping it over the back of his wife's chair. "You know you won't get any sleep if you stay here. You'll just stay up all night and stare at him."

"Oh, and you won't?" Kirsten asked dubiously, the barest trace of amusement in her voice.

Sandy stuffed his hands in his pockets a scoffed. "No, but…" Sandy gave up because he was too drained to think up a witty response, and even though he was a Cohen, this moment felt far too traumatic to make a joke. He sighed. "It's been a long night, honey. You should go home with Seth." He finished softly, brushing back a strand of her hair.

Kirsten shook her head, and the strand fell loose again across her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere." She said evenly, and pulled herself up to sit rigid in her seat, as if proving that she was in fact not tired. "And Seth won't want to leave either. If he does he can take our car."

With a reluctant nod, Sandy relented. "Okay." Glancing around the room hopefully, Sandy spotted an equally weathered metal chair on the opposite side of the dividing screen and crossed the room to pick it up. "But when Ryan wakes up and lectures us both for staying up all night, I'm blaming you…" A daunting presence at the door made Sandy do a double take. "Honey, pinch me. I think I'm having a nightmare."

"Very funny, Sanford." Caleb growled, as he walked into the room with a scowl, his tuxedo tie askew and his jacket mysteriously absent. "I financed this wing of the damn hospital and I _still _couldn't find my way through this maze. What's with that ridiculous blue line? I felt like Dorothy following the yellow brick road."

Sandy smirked and had to force his brain to come up with one joke at a time. "Ruby isn't really your color. You're more of a Tin Man." He lifted the chair and carried it back across the room to place it quietly beside his wife. "Let me know if the Wizard gives you that heart you've always wanted." He joked and allowed himself to sit down.

"Sandy, enough." Kirsten pleaded with a hand on his forearm. She turned tired eyes to her father and gave him a look of defeat and desperation. "Dad, what are you doing here?" She asked earnestly

For a moment, Caleb looked insulted. "Kiki, the boy collapsed at my party. I think I have a right to know what's wrong with him." He spoke sternly, walking further into the room as his eyes rested on the bed and his features softened. "What _is _wrong with him?" He asked, softer.

That was it. "Why would you want to know? Where Ryan is concerned you could never have cared less in the past, what makes now any different? It's not like this is the first time he's been in the hospital in the last two months." Sandy exploded suddenly, leaning forward, the chair squeaking. "Get out, Cal."

Caleb's eyes flashed and Sandy sneered at the finger that was suddenly pointed in his face. "I will go where I please, Sanford. Kirsten is my daughter and she deserves the support of her father in a time of crisis..."

Sandy got to his feet. "Then where the hell have you been all summer?"

The nails of Kirsten's left hand dug deeply into his arm, and when she spoke her voice was sharp and gravelly. "Stop it! Both of you!" She snapped, her blue eyes glaring between them furiously. Then her eyes moved to Ryan, who shifted restlessly on the bed, his expression no longer peaceful. "If you can't be quiet then leave. Sandy, you too." Her voice wavered unsteadily as she kept her gaze on their foster son, blinking back a sudden rush of tears as she fidgeted with the blankets.

Heaving a sigh, Sandy pinched the bridge of his nose and refused to look at his father-in-law, because he knew if he did he'd end up punching him in the face. And he was too tired for that. Sitting back down slowly, Sandy reached out hesitantly and placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder and let his gaze rest on Ryan's peaceful face, watching as the lines if distress slowly were erased with each passing second. "Ryan is very sick, Caleb. It would be best if you left." He said evenly.

Sandy listened to the older man's silence and imagined the look of fury that would be on his face. He waited, and seconds turned into minutes, and still Caleb hadn't stomped out of the room. Moments later Sandy saw him take a few steps forward, and saw two hands rest thoughtfully on the plastic frame at the foot of the bed.

Looking up Sandy saw Caleb standing there silently, his trademark cold blue-grey eyes trained on Ryan's sleeping figure. The look there wasn't the usual resentment and utter dislike he usually wore when looking upon the teenager. Instead he looked deep in thought, his jaw set grimly as a muscle in his cheek twitched. If Sandy didn't know any better, he'd think that Caleb actually looked worried…or maybe bothered was a better word.

He seemed to look at the oxygen line under Ryan's nose and softly said, "Did he contract a lung infection?"

Sandy's head snapped up to look at the older man in surprise, and saw his wife do the same. "Yes." He answered for her, and watched Caleb nod in understanding.

"Your mother developed pneumonia near the end." Caleb said, his tone unmistakably sad as he nodded his head slightly in Kirsten's direction. "I could never understand how something that was supposed to make her better could make her so much worse." He said with a small sigh, his fingers clutching the railing tightly, then releasing. There was no denying the utter grief in his voice as he spoke.

Beside Sandy, Kirsten swallowed. "Dad…" She began softly.

"Is he on a very strong regimen of chemotherapy?" Caleb interrupted, now looking at someone other than Ryan for the first time. At Kirsten's silent nod, he made a noise of acceptance. "Is it working?" he asked next.

Still feeling derailed from this alarming change in character, Sandy's brows furrowed in confusion. "You've never asked before…"

"I'm asking now." Caleb replied evenly, locking eyes with him and holding the gaze. After several moments of silence, Sandy gave a small nod and sat back in his seat, watching as his father-in-law raised his eyebrows expectantly, reminding them of his question.

Kirsten's lips pressed together in a fine line as she drew in a deep breath before speaking. "No." She said at a near whisper, her eyes tearing up again as she stared at Ryan sadly and let her hand brush gently over short hair on his head. "It's not working yet. But the doctors have said that it's just going to take time. We have every reason to stay hopeful." She finished, and it seemed like she was talking more to Ryan than to her father or husband.

Caleb's eyes fell closed for a fleeting moment as he let out a deep sigh. Sandy watched in awe as he saw a man he'd always considered to be made of stone show an emotion that bore a strong resemblance to concern, even wariness as his eyes lost focus, staring at a spot on the bed. The room fell into silence for several surprisingly comfortable minutes, the only sounds the mechanical whir and beeps of the various medical equipment in the room. Sandy was taken by surprise when Caleb finally spoke again.

"I have friends in the healthcare system. I can get you the best doctors in the world, Kiki. Who's the boy's oncologist? I can have him replaced within the morning if…"

Sandy shared a look with his wife and smiled at her gently. The corners of her mouth lifted into a small grin and she turned to face her father. "Thank you, dad. That means a lot to us." She said honestly. "But we like Dr. Collins a lot. He's a good doctor. And he's great with Ryan. We don't want anyone else."

After a moment of reluctance, Caleb nodded. "All right. But that doesn't mean he's getting the best treatment. I'll set up a meeting with the chief of staff and find a decent specialist. The boy has Leukemia, correct?" He asked, glancing between his Sandy and Kirsten.

"ALL, Cal. Acute Lymphoctic Leukemia." Sandy corrected quietly.

Caleb nodded again. "And I'll sniff around for this…'Dr. Collins', is it? What's his first name? You two are far too trusting. You can never be too careful with these doctors these days. What university did he graduate from? Does he do good work?"

Unable to help himself, Sandy smirked slightly and crossed his arms. "He works out of a cardboard box behind the Viper lounge in LA with a folding table and dirty knives." He deadpanned.

His father-in-law paled and stared at Sandy in shock until the tension became too intense, and Sandy began chuckling under the older man's horrified look. Caleb gave an irritated sigh and jerked his bowtie undone. "That wasn't funny, Sanford." He snapped.

"I'm sorry, Cal." Sandy said in between bouts of muted giggles, silenced by unappreciative glares from his wife. "Of course we know he's a good doctor. That's why we trust him with Ryan's life. Look, we appreciate your sudden desire to help, but please don't question our ability to be good parents. We've dealt with this thing for nearly two months now. We know what we're doing." Sandy finished seriously, looking up at Caleb defiantly.

To his surprise, Caleb backed down immediately. "Fine, fine. I'll drop it for the time being." He relented, and started glancing around the room with an expression of distaste. "But one would think that you two could spring for a better hospital room than this. Kiki, this place is positively dismal! I don't even think it's sanitary."

Sandy rolled his eyes. "It's not so bad. That is, if one doesn't mind rats and cockroaches. I hear they make excellent pets, actually." He drawled, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, and closing his eyes.

There was a moment of silence where Sandy pictured Caleb's bewildered face in his mind. Then Kirsten's voice hurried to reassure her father, "he's kidding again, dad."

Caleb snorted and Sandy heard him walking towards the door. "I'm going to find us some coffee and a decent chair, presuming that I don't get lost again in Munchkin Land." He paused, and Sandy cracked open an eye just in time to see Caleb pointing a finger in his direction as he left the room. "And I'll see if I can't find a brain for Scarecrow over there."

* * *

Summer found her boyfriend hunched over on a bench, his head in his hands. Wringing the strap of her purse in her hand, she bit her lip and watched him, waiting for him to sit up again, notice her, and smile. Maybe rub his eyes because he was tired. But the longer she watched him, the longer Summer had to see her boyfriend hunched over on a bench, his head in his hands. 

He didn't even look up when the tapping of her heels sounded across the hideous linoleum floors and came to an abrupt halt at his resting place. For a moment Summer thought that he had fallen asleep…or maybe that was just what she was hoping for.

"Hey." She said finally, because standing there for so long was getting ridiculous.

She saw his head move a little, as if alerted by the sound of her voice. But before he even lifted up long enough to look at her, he turned his body away for a moment and rubbed his eyes across his sleeve, destroying evidence of what she had expected all along. Then he turned again and looked at her, giving a tight, close-lipped smile that made Summer's heart sink. He may have been able to wipe away his tears, but his eyes were still bloodshot and red. It was an altogether freakishly 'un-Cohen-y" moment.

"Hey."

That was when Summer started to fear the worst. Plopping down beside him, somehow one of his slack, heavy hands ended up in both of hers. "Seth…" She began, unable to put her thoughts into words. How did you ask these sorts of questions? How did you ask when the person in question was _Chino? _"Ryan…is he…?"

After she had said it, Summer immediately regretted it because Seth's face twisted in horror at the mere thought before he hurried to say, "No. No, Ryan's…um, actually, supposedly, surprisingly doing well. At least that's what I've been told." He nodded, and patted her hand like some sort of reassuring grandmother. "They moved him to a room and he's resting now. My parents are with him."

Summer nodded and let him hold her hands as long as he needed to. "Do they know what's wrong with him yet? I mean, why…that…happened?" She asked slowly, cautiously.

"Yeah. Pneumonia, or some strain of some sort of lung infection. I don't know, I wasn't really listening." Seth paused there and let go of her hands, reaching them over his head in a tall stretch, taking a deep, noisy breath in his nose and expelling it slowly.

Her heart sinking in her chest, Summer chewed on her bottom lip and studied Seth's face. "That sounds serious." She said softly, waiting for more bad news.

Seth surprised her by shaking his head casually. "Actually we're being led to believe that it's not so bad." He explained with a shrug, his eyes wandering around to take in the sights of the near-empty emergency room. "Some bed rest, some penicillin, he'll be home in no time." He gave another weak, tight-lipped smile that made Summer uncomfortable.

"That's great." Summer tried to follow her boyfriend's lead. She tried to smile back at him and reclaimed his hand in her own to give it a small, reassuring squeeze. "Is he allowed visitors?" she asked next, alternating between studying his crestfallen face and trying to figure out what floor Ryan would be on. If it wasn't so bad, like Seth said, maybe he'd be upstairs near oncology, where his room used to be. But if Seth were wrong would he be in the ICU? Where was that, even? Was there some sort of mall map that would have a red 'you are here' arrow and directions to bathrooms?

Seth sucked in another loud deep breath, but this time it was shaky. "Um, I don't know. I think they're keeping it to a parental basis at this point, but it shouldn't be too long. But its night, and I remember how anal this place used to be about visiting hours so I'm not too sure…" He trailed off suddenly and looked away from her, craning his neck so that his head was turned in the complete opposite direction.

Summer had seen his shoulders droop, as if he'd suddenly lost his strength. "Seth," she began softly, shifting closer to him and wrapping one slender arm around his shoulders while trying to find his gaze. "What is it?" She tried to look at him, but he was turned too far away.

Finally he turned back towards her on his own, and Summer almost wished he hadn't. His eyes were filled with tears again that threatened to spill over. Summer's own eyes began to burn as stared back at him and tried not to break down into sobs. "Seth…" She began again.

"Did you see him, Summer?" Seth's hollow, tremulous voice interrupted her, his wet brown eyes burning their images into her memory.

She didn't ask what he meant, because she understood instantly. When a tear streaked down her cheek, Summer brought up her hand to quickly wipe it away, meeting her boyfriend's eyes again. She forced words passed her tightly closed throat. "Yeah, I did."

Summer saw Seth's Adam's apple bob sharply as he swallowed hard, averting his gaze as he tried to keep his tears from falling and his lip from trembling at the same time. "Me too." He said finally, and squeezed his eyes shut.

It happened on autopilot when Summer, not saying anything, reached out and enveloped Seth's upper body in her small embrace. She held onto him tightly and felt his arms loop around her waist, squeezing her closer. Seth didn't cry, or at least he didn't break down completely, although she was sure there would be tear stains on her dress when they pulled apart.

Summer, for her part, mostly let her tears fall unchecked onto the collar of Seth's shirt. She didn't whisper any words of condolence, because she didn't have any to offer. Instead, she just held onto her boyfriend for dear life and waited for the pain to stop.

* * *

AN: Maybe over the summer, after the memory of Marissa burned into my brain has begun to fade, I'll continue writing. Here's hoping. 


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